


Power over me

by UpInOrbit



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: A little angst, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fae & Fairies, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Minor Jonhyong, Not all are obvious tho, OT21 (NCT), Royalty, Slow Burn, implied markhyuck, minor jaewin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-25 10:56:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpInOrbit/pseuds/UpInOrbit
Summary: Yuta is a faerie king, revered for his balance between humanity and cruelty. But many are vying for his crown, and these traitors become more prominent when he takes in a half faerie-half human, Doyoung. As his enemies close in, Yuta must see who is loyal and who is not, and whether Doyoung will be his salvation or demise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is! Dear prompter, thank you for your lovely prompt and I hope you enjoy this incredibly long fic. It was supposed to be much shorter but, things happen, and welp, this is the result of it. The title was taken from [Dermot Kennedy's Power over me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRe1GWzhK-w), a wonderful song.  
> This fic wouldn't be here without the lovely people who had read, cheered me on, and suffered with me. Thanks for all the cheering and sprinting, this wouldn't be here without you all. You know who you are, and seriously, thank you so much (for the sake of the anonymity, I will add your names later but do know that I haven't forgotten you).  
> This said, I really hope you all enjoy Power over me!!

Not a sound was to be heard between the walls of the castle. The night had fallen upon them and exhaustion had crept into their bones, everyone falling asleep as soon as they touched their beds. The king was no exception, fatigue besting him after a long day.

The cool night air caressed his sleeping form, gently blowing the bedroom curtains. Nothing else disturbed the peaceful spring night. If he were asked to pinpoint what was it that had awoken him, the king would not have been able to answer. He just knew some preternatural sense, remains from his times as a soldier, had stirred him awake. 

Only the habit had made him lay utterly still, his breathing even, as he became aware of his surroundings. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

One heartbeat. Two.

It was then when he felt it: by the side of his bed, at his back, something approached, something that was not supposed to be there.

There was sudden movement, fast, almost too fast, but not as fast as the king himself. The intruder wasn’t expecting resistance and so, when his target disappeared, he was not prepared for it.

The king wrapped one hand around the stranger’s neck, the other around his arm, and he threw him against the wall. There was a loud crack when the body met the sturdy wall, and the other man let out a yelp of pain. 

The king then stepped down from the bed and walked closer to the attacker, expecting him to be too injured to move. That mustn’t have been the case, for said man lunged for the king, hands first, trying to get a grip on the monarch who, sidestepping him, grabbed the intruder by his neck once again, and smashed him against the wall.

The man tried to free himself, but the king was much too strong for him, and soon he found himself running out of air. Something clattered to the ground when he clawed at the king’s hand in an attempt to break free from his grip and breathe. It was of no use, and it didn’t take long before he lost consciousness, the king letting him drop to the ground with a loud thump the moment he fainted, no more than a puppet with its strings cut.

Bending down, the king picked up the knife that laid by his attacker. He studied it for a moment and, after a brief look at the unresponsive form at his feet, called the guards in.

***

He felt as if in a daze. Any memories of the previous night were blurry, the edges blending in together, covered in a mist so thick he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. There was black and there was white, and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t see what else there was.

Everything hurt. His chest, his hands, his face. Every movement was agony, pain that soared through his body and pierced his brain, so intense he wanted to scream, even if no sound came out of him. 

There were men surrounding him, guards as tall as towers, watching over him, making sure he had nowhere to run to, their boots mere inches away from his face. He wanted to reach for help, but they paid him no mind, unflinching, unyielding, as if they were blind to him, deaf to his moans and sobs, as if he were no better than the dirt beneath their feet.

Around him, everything was red. The walls, the floors, the ceiling, they were painted in red, a red as dark as wine, and it covered every surface, staining his clothes, his arms, dripping from the guards' fingers, inching closer to him, so much red he thought he’d drown under it.

Something creaked before him, and sudden light invaded his vision, bright, too bright for him to stand, but it was soon swallowed by the red that tainted everything.

“Because of this, your right hand is to be cut, and you will be stripped of everything you own…”

There were footsteps, new boots that got stained by the red, and then the creak was heard again and the voice disappeared, leaving him with the company of his heartbeat and the endless dripping of the red, slow, so slow, enough to make him lose his mind.

The voice had been cold, and the words sent a chill down his spine, and yet, he smiled. He smiled through his split lips and bruised ribs, through the dried blood plastered to his skull and the tears that streamed down his face. Despite the pain, despite the iron that coated his tongue and senses, he smiled, for he knew everything was to be over soon. 

In front of them, something creaked, and a door opened.

***

There were many people in the room, crowding every space available. Some other time, the king would have felt crushed by the sheer amount of people around him. But much had rained since those days, almost a lifetime ago, and so he barely even registered the guards around him or how the nobles seemed to invade every corner, trying to get closer to the dais, as if the proximity would make them be noticed and favoured. 

Kneeling in front of him, head hanging low between his shoulders, there was a man. It was not an unusual sight: people of varying conditions and age knelt in that same room by the throne. Some came with pleas, some with excuses and then others, the lesser, and the ones that interested him the most, came to be punished. 

None of those went willingly, and yet they all knelt by his throne, under his watchful eyes. Some knelt proudly, masking their fear. Others, they were dominated by their terror, the stench of it invading the whole room. Most of them cried. Some begged for forgiveness, for a second chance. They promised to be better, they promised to behave. Then, the panic took over them. Flights, threats, attacks, he had seen and experienced it all. None of them succeeded, and so he was still there, while the others never returned.

The man before him was no different from the others, there to be judged. He was shaking and even from a distance he could tell he was crying, sobs making him shake uncontrollably. Once, he might have felt bad about it, but no longer, not anymore. He had read the charges, he was aware of what the weeping mess in front of him had done.

He let his hand drop to the throne’s arm, the sudden movement causing dozens of heads to turn to him, their eyes scrutinizing his every gesture. The hushed whispers ceased, and the only sound to be heard was the man's uncontrollable cries. He, too, had noticed the change in the atmosphere, causing him to curl into himself, as if that would spare him from what was to come.

"Your case has been brought to our attention and, after much consideration, a conclusion has been reached,” that was when most people would look up, a glimmer of foolish hope in their eyes, but not him. Everyone knew what the verdict would be. "Your crimes are many, against the Crown, the Council and your own kingdom. The investigation has been thorough and the seers' decision has been unanimous: you're guilty of every charge", the man then started muttering, shaking his head, as if he could stop his fate from coming. "Because of this, your right hand is to be cut, and you will be stripped of everything you own. You are not banished from the kingdom but, shall you commit any other crime, we won't be as lenient."

“The king and council have spoken. Let it be done.” The announcement was drowned out as two guards dragged the convicted away, even as he kicked and screamed against them, the words he was shouting enough to grant him the exile. The king let it go, though, his mind having already forgotten the other's presence. 

He let his eyes wander around, until the doors opened and two guards came in, a man between them, and they walked him to the centre of the courtroom. He was barely capable of keeping himself standing, having to lean on the guards.

To the king’s left, a woman gasped. He turned slightly towards the source of the sound, but he didn’t need to, as said woman was stepping forward, her eyes fixated on the shackled man. The gown she wore, of a blue so dark it looked like the night itself, seemed to float behind her, trailing her as her own shadow as she rushed to the end of the dais. 

The midnight blue of her dress had always made her seem pale but when she turned around, she looked pale and shaken, eyes big and round, her hands covering her mouth as she walked back to his side.

“He’s half human, Yuta. What is this?” Sunmi’s voice was barely a whisper, but she shouldn’t have worried. The hushed voices were rising in volume, high enough for him to hear the words “half-breed” and “human”, ranging from surprised to disgusted.

Gently, he made Sunmi move aside, and she did, still pale, her eyes wide. Yuta thought her hands were trembling slightly, but it must have been a trick of the light, for when she turned around to face the assembly, they were steady.

Yuta flicked his wrist, beckoning the guards to bring the prisoner forward. It was rather pitiful to watch, the way the man stumbled with his own feet, and the guards had to hold him up. He dropped to the ground as soon as they released him, as if all his strength had left him. His head hung low, his chin resting completely on his chest.

“What is your name?”

At first, Yuta thought the man had not heard him, and he could feel the weight of Sunmi’s eyes on him. He was about to repeat the question when the man moved, imperceptibly at first, slowly, truly a puppet with severed strings. His head lolled to the side, unable to keep himself straight, and he finally stared at the throne. Yuta inhaled sharply.

“Doyoung. My name’s… Doyoung” he spoke with his eyes closed, his words slurred together. 

As soon as his name had slipped from his lips, his head fell back onto his chest. It did nothing to erase the image on Yuta’s mind: where Doyoung’s skin had previously been pristine and immaculate, it was then marred, purple and blue blooming on his face, gruesome flowers that covered all his visible skin and disfigured him. There was dried blood in the corner of his lips and a trickle down his temple. 

Yuta summoned the captain of his guard forward with a sharp movement and waited until he was by his side. He motioned for the man to lean forward, until their heads were at the same level. Around them, the room was silent, all eyes on him.

“Jungwoo, what were my orders yesterday?”

“That no one should come near the prisoner, and no harm should fall upon him."

Yuta nodded, and pointed at Doyoung.

“Do you think that is the face of someone unharmed?”

Jungwoo dragged his eyes to the prisoner, and ran them up and down his crouched form. The sight made him clench his jaw, eyes hard.

“Kunhang and Dejun were on duty last night. I’m afraid they still haven’t fully understood no one is granted privileges.” Albeit soft, there was steel in Jungwoo’s voice. “I will talk to Jisung about this."

“Make sure this never happens again, or they will be expelled."

“Of course, my king."

Yuta dismissed him and Jungwoo retreated back to his previous spot. Yuta let his eyes wander around the room. He knew Jungwoo, and he knew the captain would never allow that error to happen again, but he was also aware that hadn’t been a simple mistake. 

Silently, he rose and with that, he attracted the few heads that weren’t already turned to him. He plastered a candid smile on his face.

“Before the trial starts, do any of the members of the Royal houses want to come forward and tell something to the Council?”

Many looked around, waiting for somebody to come forward. Yuta, like the rest, didn’t bother with it, already aware of the fact that no one would willingly speak of it. When no one moved, his smile turned dark.

“Yesterday, I gave clear orders to my captain of the guard: not a hand was to be lain on this prisoner. Those orders were blatantly broken” he looked around, spotting a few disgusted faces. “I’m giving the ones responsible for that the opportunity to come forward and explain themselves” everyone stayed where they were. “If no one does it, I will assume their intentions were vile, and a proper investigation will be conducted. Or, seeing as they are already here, I will task the seers with this.” At the restlessness that had fallen over the room, he felt his smile grow bigger, wilder. “It’s entirely your choice."

For a moment, everyone stayed where they were, and so, Yuta turned around, inviting Sunmi to take over his place. With a small nod, the priestess stepped forward, a determined look on her face.

“I’m afraid it was me, my king” a honey-like voice spoke to Yuta’s left. The king barely suppressed a smirk before he sat on his throne and faced the owner of said voice.

“And why did you do that, my lord?”

Tall and proud, the head of the Jung family made his way up the room until he was standing in front of the dais, sidestepping the human with a barely disguised sneer. Lord Joonho Jung met Yuta’s eyes before flexing one knee, his head slightly tipped, the sketch of a bow.

“To avenge the damage inflicted on you, of course. Seeing as an attack on you is an attack on our country, I thought it only fair, especially given his… condition. I believed some of the rules would not be applied.”

“There was hardly any damage done. If anything, the human was the one who suffered the most during said attack."

The nobleman brought his hand to his heart, bowing his head.

“I will admit I might have acted rather brashly, guided by an excess of zeal on my behalf. I hope you will be able to forgive me and my actions, and that you will take them as nothing other than the actions of a man devoted to the crown and the country.”

Raising his head slightly, his gaze locked with the king’s. There was nothing but dismay and repentance in his voice, his face the portrait of innocence. Yuta nodded in response.

“You may return to your seat, lord Jung. But if this were to happen again, know there will be consequences."

After expressing his gratitude, the lord went back to where the members of his family were congregated. Standing right behind him, his eldest son tried to make eye contact with the king, his lower lip between his teeth, worry etched on his face. Yuta flicked his eyes back to Doyoung, who seemed to have returned a bit to his senses, and was watching everything around him with a faraway expression on his face, like he was seeing something everybody else didn’t.

“The half-human named Doyoung is standing here under the charges of attempted regicide, as well as an attack on the king, illegal breaking in of the castle and the breach of our borders,” Sunmi recited, worried undertones seeping into her words. “Due to the nature of the charges, the half-human’s sentence shall be decided by the king himself."

Sunmi then retreated to her usual spot, just behind Yuta’s throne. The atmosphere in the room was tense, the air around them heavy. Everyone could practically smell the blood about to be spilt. Still, no one moved as they waited for the king to pass verdict.

Yuta’s attention was focused entirely on Doyoung. He must have noticed, for he tilted his head to the side and stared directly at the king, not shying away from his scrutinizing gaze. There was something expectant in Doyoung’s eyes, something that looked both like a plea and a challenge and Yuta realized with a jolt that Doyoung himself was waiting to hear his death being sentenced, maybe even looking forward to it. 

With a subtle nod directed at Sunmi, he indicated he was ready. She walked to stand right beside the throne.

“For your crimes against this kingdom and the king, you shall be punished.” Yuta never once took his gaze of Doyoung, and neither did the other. “Seeing as you were so determined to infiltrate this kingdom and get close to me, you’re no longer allowed to leave.” For the first time since he had been dragged in, something shone in the depths of Doyoung’s eyes. Yuta continued, ignoring the rising clamour around him. “You are to stay here until you die. Should you try to flee, you will be put down like an animal.”

“The king has spoken. Let it be done." Sunmi proclaimed, trying to overcome the shouting that had invaded the courtroom.

“Bullshit!” 

Yuta whipped his head to the source of the voice where the Jung family, Joonho leading them, fought to step in front of the dais. He made a gesture for the guards to stand closer to Doyoung. Jungwoo, in turn, at the sight of the lord’s approach, stepped forward, his hand casually resting on his sword’s pommel. Lord Jung stepped just short of the dais, but he didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“The law is clear! Anyone who attempts to murder the king is to pay with his life! That sentence is laughable."

Around him, heads nodded, secured in the knowledge that Yuta’s attention was focused on the lord that stood before him. Yuta smiled.

“The law also says any attacks on the king, should he survive, are to be judged at his discretion and I did. This is my final verdict. I’m sorry you don’t agree with it, but it is what it is."

“There is no such discretion when it comes to an attempted murder,” lord Jung replied, gritting his teeth, sparks flying from his fingertips.

“Maybe so, but you yourself said it before: given his condition, some rules aren’t of application,” Yuta said, voice as sweet as ever. “As a half-breed, I cannot command over his human side, which means that, unless you’ve found a way to defeat death, I am not allowed to end his human life, not without express permission from the human king, unless he defies my direct orders."

“And so, any faerie that attempts to murder our dear king pay with their lives, and a half-breed just walks free? Hardly fair, don’t you think?”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my lord. He is not allowed to leave my side, unless I explicitly permit it.” Yuta twisted his lips into a smile, one that he knew instilled fear in many. “Some say that is a punishment worse than death,” he purred.

“The king has spoken, Joonho. You’ll all be wise to remember that,” Sunmi threatened. Something flickered through the man’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. 

The lord took a step forward, but Jungwoo was there, sword drawn, before he could take a second one. It was enough to make the other stop, sneering. Gone was the nobleman, replaced by the warlord that had made thousands cower before the sole mention of his name. And just then, all his rage was directed at Yuta.

“You’re just a kid, playing with things much bigger than yourself, and laughing at years of tradition. I’d be careful if I were you."

He spun around and left the room without a word, promptly followed by the rest of his family. Jaehyun stayed for a second longer, throwing Yuta a helpless and imploring look. Yuta just nodded, and Jaehyun left after his father.

“Jungwoo, take him to my rooms,” he said, eyes fixated on Doyoung. Jungwoo nodded briefly before stepping down the dais.

The courtroom was slowly vacated, until only Yuta was left behind, blood staining the place Doyoung had been in.

***

“What were you thinking, Yuta? This has to be the worst choice you’ve ever made. And you’ve had plenty of those,” Yuta remained seated, mindlessly drawing patterns on the chair’s armrest. Taeil huffed at the lack of response. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I am,” he snarled. “I just don’t know what you want me to say."

“Maybe tell me why you made your stupidest decision to date?”

“What other choice did I have, Taeil?” Said man took a gulp from the bottle he was holding.

“You could have asked for an extension, debated your options with me, for example."

Yuta huffed, lips curving into a bitter smile.

“You saw the state he’s in. They would have killed him, Taeil, and you know it."

“Maybe it would have been for the best” Taeil replied, pursing his lips. Yuta looked at him, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t particularly like the idea, but it would have spared you a lot of trouble."

The king shook his head, his earrings flying with the movement.

“They would have called off the treaty. The border is too vulnerable as it is, the attacks on their villages are becoming bolder. Jaehyun goes out almost every night and yet we can barely stop them, even when we double the patrols along it. As soon as the news of me killing a half-human had reached them, the humans would have been enraged and they would have put an end to the negotiations. How would they risk trusting me if I kill the first half-breed the crosses our borders in centuries or worse, if I can’t even protect them in my own palace?" 

Taeil shrugged. “There will be more treaties. Humans are fickle and their lives short."

“I’m not willing to wait another generation, Taeil. We learnt about them, I sent seers all over the kingdoms so that we would learn about them, some even spent years away, and it worked. Their king has warmed up to me. It would take years to reach this point again. Maybe even decades. Humans can be very resentful, the nasty bastards.” Mimicking Taeil’s moves, Yuta brought the bottle that dangled from his fingers up to his mouth. The beer left a bitter taste in his mouth, just like the taste the trial itself had left.

“You know how this looks, Yuta. You know how they’re going to make it look,” Yuta hummed. Taeil continued, undeterred. “They’re saying you’re growing soft."

“Four people were judged, one was sentenced to death and two lost their limbs. I wouldn’t call that ‘soft’,” he replied, lips around the bottle’s opening.

“And yet, the halfling leaves unharmed. Even if you’re not allowing him to return, they’ll twist this around until you look like you only worry about the humans, and not about your own people."

“I _know_ that, Taeil! But, what can I do? Half the Council hates me, and the other merely tolerates me,” Yuta snapped. “If I had taken even a couple of hours to decide, the human would be dead. Then the treaty would follow. Joonho would then say I’m incapable of leading our people and he’d propose a motion to depose me. And now, he’ll just say I worry about the humans too much, making me unfit to rule, and so he’ll depose me.” Yuta ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Either way, Joonho wins. The noble houses win."

Taeil rubbed his eyes in frustration.

“We need to neutralize Joonho. Without a head, gone is the snake. Maybe Jaehyun…” Yuta threw him a look, dark amusement in his eyes.

“We’ve talked about this, Taeil. Jaehyun is charming, but not enough to compel his father, we all know it, and he’s too afraid of him and what he can do to testify against him.”

“Then the seers—”

“Sunmi says I’m at a crossroads. Too many possible futures. Every small decision might change the outcome. And the futures in which I somewhat win are getting scarcer by the day.” The High priestess’ eyes had been clouded with worry as she had spoken those words.

The silence between them stretched. Yuta felt his eyes drawn to the sleeping form huddled on top of the couch. Doyoung hadn’t moved since Jungwoo and his guards had brought him to Yuta’s personal chambers, his chest barely rising with every breath. Taeil followed Yuta’s gaze.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Keep him around. It’s not like I have any other choice."

“He tried to kill you,” Taeil pressed. Yuta merely shrugged.

“He failed."

“They’ll try again."

Yuta threw his head back, his eyes closed.

“Let them." 

"Yuta...," Taeil's exasperated voice almost made him feel a little guilty, but he pushed the feeling away. "Ten and I are worried. He will try again, Yuta," Taeil sighed. "if not him, then one of his supporters."

"I know that, Taeil, but there's not much that I can do. Sunmi has nothing that could help me. The only good thing coming out from this disaster is that they'll lay low for a while until they figure out something else,” he flickered his eyes back to his advisor’s, his friend’s, face. He grinned. “Let them come, Taeil. I'll be ready."

Taeil let out a resigned breath and the chair scrapped the floor as he got up.“Let’s hope you’re still alive tomorrow."

A smile stretched Yuta’s lips as Taeil left the room, patting him on the shoulder on his way out. He waited until the door was closed once again, until he knew Taeil was out of his chambers, no longer within hearing range. He opened his eyes, staring once again at the human.

“How much did you hear?”

His words bounced off the walls, and nothing happened, not at first. Then, there was shuffling, as Doyoung turned around to squint at Yuta, his eyes so swollen they were barely open.

“Everything,” he said, voice hesitant.

Yuta nodded, slowly, his eyes scanning the human’s face. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs. “Tell me, Doyoung: can you lie?”

Doyoung lifted his chin slightly. Yuta arched an eyebrow in response.

“No,” he spat out, quickly averting his gaze. Yuta nodded to himself, slowly. Doyoung returned his eyes to the king’s face and stared at him. “You don’t believe me.”

Yuta smiled, sardonic. “We’ll see about that tomorrow.” 

He rose from the chair, craning his neck, before walking up to the couch. Doyoung squinted at him, pressing himself against the couch’s back, his body as tense as a bowstring. Yuta would have sworn he wasn’t even breathing and so, he stopped just short of him, crouching until their eyes were at the same level.

“You heard us talking so I’m going to be very honest: I do not care about you. I do not care who you are, you’re no one to me. Had it been up to me, I would have kicked you out and left you to fend for yourself. Sadly, that is not an option.” Something glimmered in the depths of Doyoung’s eyes, but Yuta continued speaking, not giving the other a chance to say anything. “You will be staying here, and you will be given a room for yourself. I only want you to be alive. If you stay out of my way, I will stay out of yours, and make sure you aren’t harmed by anyone, understood?” Doyoung nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Good.”

Yuta stood up and turned around but he was stopped just when he was about to enter his room.

“What will happen after that?” Doyoung’s voice was raspy, strained. Yuta turned his face slightly to look at him from over his shoulder.

“You tried to kill me, human. You are to stay here”.

“You said you didn’t care about me!” Doyoung’s voice was accusing, pleading.

“I don’t, but the law does.” 

With that, Yuta left the room, without looking back. At his back, behind locked doors, something crashed and broke, but he paid it no mind.

***

“How are you, Yuta?” Sunmi’s voice was soft as she closed the door behind her and walked up to sit in front of him. Yuta huffed.

“How do you think I am?” He moved his neck around, trying to get rid of the stiffness that had settled over him like a second skin. It was pointless, not when the tension built up after hours and hours of sitting through endless meetings. “I’m alive, so at least, there’s that.” Sunmi stared at him, worried. “It’ll be fine, Sunmi. Many have tried to kill me, and none have succeeded.”

“Until one of them does,” she whispered. 

“You haven’t seen that, so I’m safe.” He said with a shrug. Sunmi shook her head.

“That’s not how it goes, Yuta.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but Yuta cut in before she could do so.

“I know, Sunmi. Please, just tell me what you learnt of the human,” it was obvious, in the stern line of Sunmi’s lips, that she didn’t want to change the topic, even if she gave in.

“Not much, I’m afraid. I had Sooyoung go through his mind, but she found very little,” Yuta squirmed in his seat, a question ready but Sunmi silenced him with a look. “I repeated the process myself, but there wasn’t much to see, just… The most basic facts.”

The king frowned at that, at the tentativeness in Sunmi’s voice. “Explain yourself.”

“There’s… There’s something in his head, Yuta. Something that stops me from accessing his memories, maybe even he can’t access them.”

“What is it blocking, exactly?” A pointless question, one to which he already had the answer.

“I cannot see who brought him here,” Sunmi said slowly, her eyes not once leaving Yuta’s face. “There’s a gap, a blank, between his last day at his house, and the moment he set foot in the castle. Someone blocked the access to his memories,” Yuta closed his fists, the anger building up inside of him. “I’m sorry.”

“Blocked, but not erased?” He inquired, tapping his foot impatiently. Sunmi nodded, hesitating briefly. “So, they are still there, you could eventually access them, right?”

“I… I’m not sure that’s wise, Yuta,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s deeply rooted in his brain, someone took a lot of care to make sure they wouldn’t be discovered.”

“And Jiwoo and Gahyeon? Can’t they do something?”

“I will tell them to try, but you have to understand, he’s a clean slate. There’s nothing there for them to work with. It would be like trying to paint something, with only a brush, in the dark, while blindfolded. They don’t even have a starting point, they made sure of that when they blocked those memories. They’re as good as gone, Yuta.”

Incapable of remaining seated any longer, Yuta stood up, pacing along the room, counting his heartbeats until he felt the fury dissipate a little, until he could think again. He couldn’t. “Can’t you break that block? You’re the High Priestess, the most skilled one in centuries, there has to be something you can do!”

“Don’t you think I would have done so already if I could? I could push, find a crack, twist his mind so much no block would ever be able to resist it, but _he_ wouldn’t either,” Sunmi hissed, walking to stand just before Yuta. The king unconsciously took a step back. “I could do so, if that’s what you want, but Doyoung would never come back from that, he would perish with his destroyed mind, and all because of me.” Sunmi’s voice broke, and with, a part of Yuta’s heart, as the High Priestess looked at him with pleading eyes. “I don’t want you to suffer, I love you like a son, and you know I’d do anything for you if it came to that but please, don’t ask me to break that poor boy beyond repair. If he were one of us… Maybe I could do it without destroying his will and soul. But he’s not, and his mind is not strong enough to resist an invasion like that.”

Yuta stared at her, nibbling at his lower lip, and sighed. “They are after me, after us, Sunmi,” he whispered, running his hands through his hair. “I need something I can work with, and I need to know I can, at least, believe his words.”

The older woman smiled at him, tired, kind, as she sat back down. Yuta copied her movements, burying his face in his hands for a split second. “Have you been able to see if he can lie, at least? How similar he’s to us?”

“We have,” she breathed, a faraway look in her eyes, as she idly played with the hem of her sleeve. “Sooyoung says she things he appears to have gotten the worst of both of his parents,” she said, with a small smile. Yuta nodded, urging her to continue, even if she didn’t seem to notice him. “Iron won’t harm him too much, he’s not vulnerable to that.” He’d also be able to yield it against the king, they both thought. Not that he’d be able to get close enough to him, in any case.

“Do we know who sired him?” Sunmi looked at him, her head tilted, a ghost smile on her lips.

“Does it matter?” The king sighed.

“I guess not. What is it he can do?” Yuta asked, his mind racing.

“Sooyoung’s not sure, but she believes it’s something minor, no offensive abilities. You don’t have to worry about that.” Yuta nodded in response, but he stared at her, expectantly. Sunmi sighed, a small smile playing at her lips. “I trust her, Yuta, she’s one of my best students: I agree with her findings.”

Yuta closed his eyes, running his hands through his hair, chewing at his bottom lip. He dropped his hands to his laps with a thump. “I know she’s good at what she does, one of your best, but I can’t take any risks, so forgive me if I want the opinion of the real expert and not just the student,” he answered, grimacing.

Sunmi reached forward, wrapping one of her hands around his. “You know I’d never do anything to harm you, Yuta. All I’ve ever done, up to this point, has been in the best of your interests. I’ve gone over every one of Sooyoung’s findings, and made sure there were no errors. I don’t want you to lose your throne,” Sunmi’s eyes her kind, as she gently squeezed Yuta’s hand, the words left unsaid hanging heavy between them. “You know where my loyalty lies.”

“With your kin and those you love,” he said, as he said it a thousand times before.

“And you’re both, Yuta, even without blood between us,” there was nothing but kindness in her smile as she said so. “You can trust the human. I’m not telling you to do so, we both know it would be unwise,” she quickly added, as Yuta’s expression darkened. “But he does not wish you ill. That being said, it would probably be best if you made sure no one can tamper with his mind anymore. If you wish, we could try and close his mind to others, but that on its own won’t be enough. It won’t be enough to counteract whatever is already in his head, but it will offer some kind of insurance, both to him and to us. It will be safer than not doing anything at all.”

Yuta agreed with a nod, tired, before standing up, rolling his shoulders with a sigh. “He will be staying with me,” he confessed, looking straight at Sunmi. “He will be given a room next to mine, and he’s to not be left alone at any given time.”

“Do you think it’ll be enough?”

He shrugged, twisting his lips into a sardonic smile. “It will have to be. It’s nothing but a temporary solution, but he can’t die, nor try to kill me. Again. We’re too close to the end of the negotiations with the human king. We’ve spent too much time on this to risk ruining it by having a new player running loose.” He said, tapping his fingers lightly on the pommel of his sword. Yuta blinked, not having realized what he was doing, and he let his hand fall down back to his side. Sunmi was looking at him, something like concern in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Sunmi. We’ll survive this,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“And the human? Will he survive too?”

Yuta’s smile quivered briefly, before widening, something dark flashing in his eyes. “That’s what I intend but… It’s really up to him.”

***

The second time Doyoung stepped into the courtroom, it was to stand behind the king’s throne. 

It was a strange feeling, to be on the other side, to see what others had seen when he had been forced to the ground, in front of the same dais on which he was then standing. He didn’t recall much of that time, just the wish for it to be over soon, the feeling of the king’s eyes boring into him, reading him as if he were an open book. He couldn’t see him then, as he stood slightly behind the throne, but his expression would be permanently imprinted on his brain, haunting him in his sleep.

He could conjure it right then, while he listened to the charges that were presented against the man that had taken up Doyoung’s previous place on the floor. The High Priestess, Sunmi, recited them without pause, her melodic voice making them hypnotic, almost like a song, almost enough for him to forget how truly gruesome they were. Almost, but not enough, his blood turning cold the longer the list got. Beside him, the grip the captain of the guard had on his sword was tight, his knuckles turning white.

Sunmi’s voice died down, and the courtroom was invaded by silence once again. Doyoung could see, half hidden by the throne in front of him, the man that was being judged, his hands behind his back, kneeling perfectly still, his face half turned to the ground. He looked apologetic, sad, remorseful, but his eyes… There was something in them, something dark and cunning, calculating, that sent a shiver down Doyoung’s spine.

Doyoung had come to learn the king took his time with the trials, but, even then, most of them were quick, the sentence having been decided beforehand by either the twelve members of the Council, or the king himself. When the silence extended for longer than he was expecting, Doyoung found himself waiting expectantly, his nerves on edge as minutes slowly ticked by. Around them, everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for the king to move.

Finally, he did so, his clothes shuffling as he tilted his head to the right, resting it on top of his hand. When he spoke, his tone was bored, but Doyoung didn’t miss the ice that coated his words.

“Your case, my lord, is pretty clear to me. The evidence provided has been… Overwhelming, to say the least. I wouldn’t have bothered with this trial had it not been for the noblemen that came to ask for a reprieve,” the man squirmed, shifting his weight on his knees, still the living image of repent, but all Doyoung could see was the darkness pooling in his eyes, the flash of red that covered him for a moment, as if he had washed himself with blood. Doyoung blinked, and it was gone. “Do you think you deserve such a thing?”

The man licked his lips, once, twice, his eyes moving nervously as he glanced around the room. Doyoung didn’t know what he was looking for, but he seemed to have found it, for he stood straighter, or as straight as his kneeling position allowed him to.

“My house has always been loyal, my king. You are young, and so you might not remember, but all those around you must do and will be able to testify the previous king had nothing to say against me, or my kin. Our service was always impeccable,” he tipped his head forward, eyes cast down, his dark hair covering his face.

“You might be right, my lord Kwon, but, did your loyalty end with the last king’s reign?”

The nobleman tilted his head, brows furrowed. Something shone in his eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, my king. I have always been loyal—”

“To yourself, no doubt. But I have yet to see any of that loyalty directed to your king, or the Council,” he interrupted the other, who clenched his jaw in something that looked like rage, gone as soon as it appeared. He opened his mouth again, but the king wasn’t over. “I am sure you were loyal to the previous king, my lord, as much as I am sure you do not hold any respect for me or my laws. I cannot fathom how you could possibly think you could ransack a human village, and almost burn all its people to the ground.”

The king’s words, cold as ice, seemed to cause a reaction among the nobles gathered in the room. Some looked nervous, others bored, but most of them had a gleam in their eyes, as if they couldn’t wait to see the outcome, as if they could already smell the blood, were eager for it to be spilt.

“That was never a crime. Not until you became king,” the lord replied, almost spat out.

“It is now. You know the law, as everyone here does, and so you know I forbade those actions as soon as I came to the throne,” the king spoke calmly, but no one missed the furious undertones in his voice.

“You’re playing with things you don’t understand,” the scorn in lord Kwon’s voice was unmistakable then. “You come here and try to change years of tradition, try to make us tame, You bargain with humans, and expect us to sit back and watch as you soil our kind.” The captain of the guard drew his sword and his movement was followed by guards around them, as the imprisoned man tried to stand. They weren’t the only ones expecting a fight, Doyoung noticed, other nobleman moving forward to stand at the front. “We don’t soil ourselves with human scum and we certainly don’t punish our own for killing one.”

“We do now, lord Kwon. No one is above the law, not even you, not even the old noble houses,” the king said, sweeping the room with a single look. “The only reason you were given this courtesy was to make sure everyone knew that I have no intentions whatsoever to let these things go, regardless of their position or standing,” he rose from the throne. “The law is clear about this, and I will not break it, not even for you, my lord,” the murmurs started to grow around them, but he paid them no mind. “The law is clear and so, you are sentenced to death, to be carried tomorrow at sunrise.”

The cacophony of voices then turned deafening, and Doyoung flinched at the sudden outburst. Some of the lords stepped forward, enraged, and the guards around the dais drew their swords, closing in around the throne. The noblemen ignored them, and pushed themselves through the lines of guards, until they stood by the side of the still kneeling lord.

One of them, whose face Doyoung vaguely remembered, stepped forward, his mouth twisted with disgust.

“This is not what we asked for, boy,” he snarled.

“You will address the king with respect, lord Jung,” said the captain of the guard, who had moved from Doyoung’s side and was then beside the throne.

“I will address the king with respect when he arrives,” the silence that followed those words was deafening, even more so than the precedent commotion.

“Lord Jung,” the king finally acknowledged him. “I will take this as the product of your pain regarding lord Kwon’s death sentence, and not as an uprising and open treachery towards the Crown, as we all are aware of the punishment those entitle,” he replied, his voice stone cold. The guards had yet to unsheathe their swords, but the tension was obvious in their bodies, the way they stood, some of them with their hands extended in front of them, their palms looking up.

Lord Jung let his eyes wander, taking in the guards stony faces, their fighting stances, and pulled his lips into a mocking grin. There was a flash of red, that covered him from head to toe, gone when Doyoung blinked.

“Of course, my lord. And none of us would want that, would we?” The lord met eyes with Doyoung’s and his grin stretched wider, darker. “I’m afraid you can’t expect us to stand aside as you sentence one of our own to death, especially given the treatment you gave to a human who wasn’t even one of your subjects,” with all eyes turned to him, Doyoung froze, not daring to move a muscle, not even breathe. “But we’ll all try our best to redeem ourselves, and fix past mistakes,” he continued, bowing his head slightly at that. Behind him, the rest of the nobleman did the same. With that, they walked back to where they had been previously standing, fading to the background once again. 

After that, the rest of the trials were uneventful, Lord Kwon having being dragged to his cell once again, with no one to complain then. One would have believed it to be peaceful, had it not been for the eyes Doyoung could feel drilling holes on his face, as the minutes crawled by, nowhere near fast enough for him.

It seemed like forever until the trials ended, until he followed the king and his guard back to his chambers, and could finally breathe. He knew it’d be short-lived, had heard the footsteps behind them, seen the billowing capes trailing them, and knew they’d be there in no time. The doors had barely closed in after the king and him, when they opened again, and the captain of the guard slipped in.

“My king, the lords want a word with you.”

The king breathed in, slowly, before turning to face the other. His eyes briefly caught Doyoung’s, his brows furrowing slightly at what he saw on his face.

“Tell them this is not a good time, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo bowed his head. “Of course, my king. I’ll make sure you won’t be bothered,” he replied, before leaving the room, closing the door firmly after him.

Doyoung tiredly dragged himself towards the other of two doors, one of which lead to the king’s chambers, the other to the room Doyoung himself was occupying. He had almost reached it when the king spoke.

“He will come after you.”

Doyoung debated whether to answer or not. “I know.”

“He will never stop until you’re dead at his feet.”

“I know,” he replied, through gritted teeth, turning back to stare at him.

“Good,” the king walked up to him. “Because Joonho Jung hates me, but he hates humans even more so, and you being here is an insult he will not tolerate.”

“I said, I know,” Doyoung said, looking him straight in the eye. “The Warlord has quite a reputation in the human kingdoms, we still remember him.”

The king smirked, barely a twitch of his lips.

“Maybe that will keep you alive.”

Doyoung bit his tongue to keep his thoughts for coming out. He took a deep breath. “Your Majesty—“

“‘My king’ will suffice.” 

Doyoung’s fingers twitched. “You are not my king,” he replied, causing said king to raise his eyebrows, something like amusement shining in his eyes. “Will I be confined here until I die or am I free to leave this room?”

The king stared at him, his eyes boring into Doyoung’s. “We will speak about this, when the novelty wears out. I told you, I don’t care what you do here, as long as you are smart enough to not die, but it’s not safe yet. I went through too much trouble for you to just get killed.”

***

Life in the castle was surprisingly easy, all things considered, even if he could never leave it, never setting foot in the city, Azhar. He was only allowed out of his chambers at certain hours, when it was most likely he wouldn’t be seen, guards escorting him at all times. When the novelty of his presence wore off, he became the castle’s ghost, some kind of legend, a story to be whispered at night, and he was fine with it, as long as he didn’t become one.

Doyoung had turned into a king of his own right, one whose kingdom extended as far as his rooms did, hidden out of sight like a badly kept secret, and he knew that, as long as he made himself invisible, irrelevant, as long as he didn’t _think_ , he’d survive, and that he would.

The rest of the time, he’d spend it in his borrowed chambers, far from everyone’s sight. More often than not, he’d be alone, staring at the ceiling until it stared back. The king would come back during the night, too worn out to even spare a glance in his general direction. On occasions, he’d go straight to bed, rising up earlier than Doyoung did. Most days, though, he’d have to fight off the nobles that followed him to his very door, with suggestions and pleas and commands, all shouted from behind the closed doors. 

At the sight of the king’s sunken eyes, Doyoung would almost feel bad, but a glance at his kingdom was enough to turn his pity into anger, dispelling those thoughts from his mind.

It was just them, most of the time, but the king left before the Sun was up and returned so tired he wouldn’t utter a word, not that Doyoung thought he’d willingly do such thing, so Doyoung had almost no one to speak to, books his only company. 

So it was just them, most of the time, but not always. There were nobles and soldiers that came to meet the king, and sometimes, even friends. They were rare, but he had caught sight of some of them, on their way in or out of the king’s chambers, especially the one they called Jaehyun. Those the king left in, they were kind, never treating Doyoung with anything other than respect, a nod in his direction when they saw him, and in a way, he was grateful. Still, none of them had really spoken to him. It had been a long time since he’d had a proper conversation.

The touch on his shoulder, albeit soft and cautious, startled him, causing him to jump and raise his eyes in surprise. His mind was slower than his body and, at first, he didn’t know what he was looking at, but when he did, he rushed to get on his feet, bowing his head slightly.

“I’m sorry, my lady, I hadn’t realized you were here,” he breathed, averting his eyes. 

The High Priestess and him were alone in the room, Doyoung realized, the king nowhere in sight. As if reading his mind, she smiled.

“The king is finishing up some letters. He will be out in a minute,” her voice was soft, her eyes kind as she stared at him. 

Doyoung nodded, resisting the need to squirm around. Some distant part of him, disconnected from the rest, thought she was prettier from up close, more so than he remembered. She almost glowed. 

For the first time since he had set foot in that forsaken castle, he wished for the king to appear and take the priestess and her kindness away from him. She moved a step forward, causing him to flinch. It was enough to make her stop, something like sadness in the depths of her eyes. Doyoung felt bad.

“I’m really sorry, I—“

“There’s no need for you to excuse yourself, Doyoung,” she said, nothing but honesty in her voice. It didn’t soothe Doyoung’s nerves, however. 

They stood there, in awkward silence, until the High Priestess opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say was lost when the king stepped into the room. He walked in, head hanging low as he read the papers he carried in his hands, but that stopped as soon as he noticed both of them standing there.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked, his eyes scanning their faces, as if he could read their answers there. Doyoung froze, unable to reply, to move. 

“Of course not,” she smiled. “I was just about to tell Doyoung he should come sometime to the library, he might find something of interest there.” She pointed at the books laying on the table and Doyoung managed to nod in response, his throat dry. The king stared at them both, as if hesitant to believe them, but eventually nodded too.

“It’s a generous offer, Sunmi, but I’m afraid our guest won’t be able to accept it yet,” he replied, handing her the paper. Doyoung frowned, his eyes shifting between them. “The human king has replied.”

At that, Sunmi unfolded the letter, her face paling, fingers shaking slightly. Her eyes ran over the page, and when she was done, she raised her face, her lips trembling.

“Yuta…”

“They’ve accepted the treaty, Sunmi. Or at least, they want to talk about it in person, and that’s the closest we’ve been in years,” he said, smiling. It was the first time Doyoung saw him smile, truly do so. It made him look different, softer, younger. 

“You must leave, then. As soon as you possibly can,” she breathed, words rushing out of her mouth like water overflowing a dam. 

“I know. Be prepared to leave anytime now.”

It took Doyoung a couple of seconds to realize it was him the king was addressing. “Me?”

“Of course,” was the impatient reply. “Unless you want to try your luck here on your own.” Doyoung gritted his teeth, but said nothing. “It’s settled, then. We’ll both go to the human kingdoms, and hopefully, leave all this behind us.” The king walked towards the door, opening it so that Sunmi could leave. Before following her out, he added, as if in afterthought, “I beg you, Doyoung: please don’t do anything we’ll regret while we’re there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1ANtvBWKGoRGvyQc0Zjkxt?si=cLCf0hwzS9eYGLabIePtjQ)


	2. Chapter 2

The journey to the human kingdoms was long and draining. The two parties were to meet near the border, but even that was far away from the castle, so much that it took them almost a week to get to the meeting point: a small city, barely big enough to be relevant, Doyoung forgetting its name as soon as he heard it, and one they would only see from afar. The tiniest sign of good faith, but a sign, nonetheless.

The trek through the forest was almost endless. Doyoung stared at the canopy of trees around them, tall enough to reach the sky, the stretched branches above them tinting everything green. He could tell there was something different from the forests surrounding his own home, a clear distinction between their two worlds. Doyoung wondered if that had always been the case, if something had happened to make the faerie woods to gain a spark that set them apart, or if the human one’s had lost theirs. Either way, it was ever present as they silently rode through it, impossible to ignore. The air almost tasted of magic.

Doyoung's hands could barely stop shaking as they rode towards the border. He tried to keep the memories at bay, bright eyes that crinkled in happiness when they smiled. Eyes that once again disappeared into the darkness as Doyoung willed them away, burying the images where he wouldn’t see them. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the horse beneath him, the long road ahead. There was a collective breath of relief when they saw the human banners, bright red flapping in the sky, a stark contrast against the soft blue. It didn’t take long before they were spotted, the foreign camp entering a frenzy when the first shout alerting of the arrival was heard. It was loud enough to be heard by the faeries, despite the distance between them. Everything else was pointless.

They were a sight to behold, Doyoung supposed. Black dots against the green hills, the Sun occasionally making the polished breastplates and armours gleam, a procession of sparkling jewels making their way up the hills. The city was far up enough so that the dust and dirt that caked their clothes and faces couldn’t be seen, the stench they carried with them like a second skin carried away by the wind. The illusion would fade soon enough, though.

There wasn’t much Doyoung could do, his whole body groaning in pain, as they slowly approached the top of the hill. Truth be told, there hadn’t been much for him to do throughout the whole journey, and so, more often than not, he found himself letting his eyes wander, studying the faces and movements of those around him, even if he always came back to the same two people.

Right then, a little behind him, rode Jaehyun, grinning widely at the soldier next to him. He tended to ride next to king, his easy smiles and frequent laughs being something that Doyoung had never expected to come associated with the king. They had met in the past, when Jaehyun had happened to be waiting for Yuta to come back to his rooms and, while Doyoung couldn't remember conversing with him for much other than a greeting, he knew Jaehyun had a brighter personality than the king, all dimples and mischief.

The king himself was nowhere near, and Doyoung found himself observing Jaehyun once again, the golden armour he wore, not unlike those around him. It was just that he shared with the others, something in the way he carried himself setting him apart. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, and his hair was the colour of the autumn leaves, almost glowing under the dying lights. Atop his horse, he looked every part the prince of the stories he was told as a child, despite the dark clouds that seemed to settle over him from time to time.

Jaehyun caught him staring and smiled, if a little strained around the edges. Even then, he approached Doyoung.

“How are you enjoying your stay with us, Doyoung?” he said. Doyoung shot him a sideways glance.

“Should you be talking to me?” He asked, earning himself a frown.

“Why not?”

“I am your prisoner, after all,” Jaehyun snorted at that, grinning. Doyoung pursed his lips. “What is it?”

“If you haven’t been released yet is just because it would be more problematic than it’s worth, and a danger to your life, as well as Yuta’s. But that doesn’t mean you’re forbidden to talk to others. You might be a prisoner—”

“I _am_ a prisoner,” he corrected. Jaehyun raised his brows, seemingly amused.

“Even so, you can’t deny you’re being treated far better than any other prisoner would be.” Doyoung stayed silent, no point in denying the truth. 

They rode together in silence. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but the inane distrust against faeries had settled deep in Doyoung’s bones, and made him sit stiff, weary of his surroundings. Still, he tried to make an effort, for his own sake.

“How long until we reach the city?” Jaehyun seemed surprised at having being addressed, but latched onto the question almost immediately.

“We could probably be there in a couple hours, by nightfall, but my guess is that we’ll wait until tomorrow morning,” Doyoung looked at him, confused, and Jaehyun clarified, “the effect won’t be the same.” Jaehyun smiled at Doyoung’s bewildered expression and shrugged, “Yuta has always been one for theatrics, even if he can’t indulge in them as often as before.”

“The king… Are we talking about the same person here?” He didn’t even bother hiding the surprise in his voice. Jaehyun laughed.

“You do realize we can’t lie, right?” The amusement in Jaehyun’s tone was obvious. “Yes, we are talking about the same person.”

He raised his hand to point somewhere in front of him. Following his finger, Doyoung found the king, who appeared to be deep in conversation with Jungwoo, and who Doyoung had come to learn was Ten, one of his advisors. 

Now that he knew where he was, Doyoung wondered how could have he missed seeing him before. Not only there was he in the middle of a wide circle, flanked by soldiers, but the dark grey of his armour was enough to set him apart, a dark stain against hues of gold and silver. Doyoung turned to look at Jaehyun.

“Why is his armour grey?”

Jaehyun didn’t reply at first, and Doyoung could almost see his brain thinking, deciding whether or not to answer his question, but he finally shook his head.

“I am assuming you know faeries are capable of magic and vulnerable to iron,” he started.

“Everyone knows that.”

“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Jaehyun admitted. “Not everyone is as magical, nor as vulnerable to iron. Magic and iron, they are on opposite ends of a scale, the more of one you have, the less of the other.”

“So, what you’re saying is, if you can wield magic, you can’t wield iron?” Doyoung asked, his mind racing.

“It’s not that simple. There are few who can only use one or the other, which makes them rare,” he replied. “Sometimes, it depends on your type of magic as well. Abilities that can’t be really used to attack someone else’s body, such as the ones related to the mind and, occasionally, healing, interfere less with the ability to wield iron. Both the magic and the resistance to iron can be passed on to one’s descendants, so there have been cases of pure-blooded faeries able to use both but it’s rare. For most of us, it’s an equilibrium. The more powerful your magic is, the less your body will tolerate iron, whereas, the weakest your magic is, the more you resemble a human, capable of touching iron without harm.”“So that’s why your armours are gold and silver?” Jaehyun nodded. “Your weapons too?”

“Reinforced with magic so that they won’t break as easily, but yes. The purity of the metal depends on the amount of magic flowing through one’s veins.”

“And, why is it that you’re here, then?”

“Serving the king, of course.”

“I assumed as much,” he replied, sardonic, “but why are you here, and not in the city, when it’s obvious you don’t want to be here?” Jaehyun frowned, and Doyoung tilted his head to the side. “I’ve seen you looking back more often than not.”

“I’ve left someone behind,” Jaehyun confessed, his eyes turning soft, even if it looked like it cost him to say as much. He played with the ring on his left hand, the sigil of the house he had been born into. There was none on his right hand. “I wanted to bring them but my brother is too young, and Sicheng… He has to take care of his brother’s, they are his number one priority. I miss them.” Doyoung nodded in silence, not wanting to pry any further, but he stared at Jaehyun, brows arched, patiently waiting for Jaehyun to realize he was still expecting an answer. Jaehyun finally relented with a sigh and shook his head in defeat. “Let’s just say I’m… Very persuasive. And on this trip, we might need some persuading. Had it been any other time, he’d probably let me stay, but this one’s too important for him to risk it by not taking me.”

“Why?”

“He needs magic, too, probably more than most, and the service I can provide is one not available to many others,” he shrugged. Seeing Doyoung’s confused eyes, he added, “Don’t you know? Yuta is one of those rare cases, with about as much magic in his veins as you have. If he’s in need of anything magical, he requires assistance.”

“Should you be telling me this, at all?” Doyoung frowned. “It doesn’t seem wise to tell me the king’s potential weaknesses.” Contrary to what he was expecting, Jaehyun threw his head back, laughing loud enough to attract the eyes of those around them. Doyoung turned his head, hissing for Jaehyun to calm down.

“If anyone thinks that’s a weakness, then they’re dead. It’s only a weakness if you don’t exploit it, but Yuta is as deft with a weapon as any magic wielder, and capable of standing his ground against them. And he’d probably have told you about it, if you asked. Yuta never lies, and he’s not one to hide secrets, at least not about himself.”

“I don’t think he would have told me anything,” he replied, bitterly remembering the cold looks and even colder words.

“Maybe not, if you both continue like this. It’d probably be in the best of both your interests if you tried to treat each other a little more nicely,” Jaehyun replied, looking him straight in the eye. “Addressing him by his name would probably help, it’d be a nice first step.”

“I doubt he’d appreciate that,” he retorted stiffly, refusing to look at him.

“None of you know what the other would appreciate, Doyoung, that’s the problem. Maybe you should believe what I say.”

Doyoung doubted Jaehyun wanted to help him. Faeries were tricksters by nature, everyone knew that, and they never did anything out of the goodness of their hearts. They weren’t friends, and Doyoung was sure Jaehyun barely tolerated his presence, no matter how polite he could appear to be. There was something there, something Jaehyun wasn’t telling him, that compelled him to talk to him, disguising it as interest in Doyoung himself. He let his eyes wander back to the king. 

For a moment, the Sun blinded him, the king nothing more than a dark shadow against it but Doyoung saw it, crimson in the king’s hands, something shining around his head. The king suddenly veered to the left, enough for Doyoung to lose sight of him, and the images to disappear. He gritted his teeth, and turned his head to look back at Jaehyun. Doyoung still doubted Jaehyun wanted to help him, but that didn’t mean his words were necessarily untrue.

“You said the ki— Yu— he doesn’t lie,” Jaehyun nodded, ignoring the sudden change in the conversation. “But you just said faeries can’t lie.”

“There is more than one way to lie, Doyoung,” Jaehyun spoke slowly, as if carefully choosing the words to piece together the sentence. It was how they spoke, Doyoung realized. Riddles and lies hidden in complex and carefully constructed sentences. “The words you hear aren’t the only means by which you lie. Yuta hates deceits, ever since he was a boy, and I don’t know more than a handful of times in which he’s done so. It’s one of the many reasons he’s not the most loved king.”

Doyoung frowned. “Maybe he’s just more skilful than you are at this.”

“Maybe,” Jaehyun replied with a small smile. “None of those scenarios make him look better, I’m afraid. And, Doyoung? If you’ll take my advice, don’t trust anyone, other than him. Stick to Yuta, don’t betray him, and you’ll get out of here.”

“Don’t trust anyone, not even you?”

“Not even me, Doyoung,” he replied, all previous traces of laughter gone from his face. “It’s important you remember it.”

Not waiting for a reply, Jaehyun then spurred on his own horse, moving towards the head of the retinue, leaving Doyoung to fix his eyes on Yuta’s back, mulling over Jaehyun’s words.

***

Jaehyun was right, at least about one thing. They did wait until morning to resume their march, entering the human camp with the first lights of the day. Even Doyoung had to admit they were quite the sight when they rode in, tall horses carrying stunning faeries, shining so bright under the Sun it was hard to see their faces. 

Humans said faeries were proud, but such word seemed an understatement, especially after seeing them cleaning and polishing their weapons and armours during the night, just to make sure they’d impress the humans as they passed by. Judging by the gaping mouths and astonished expressions, they certainly did so, starting a tale to be passed from parents to child, one destined to last for generations. It would be a great one, Doyoung thought, regardless of the outcome. He didn’t think the lowly human traveling with the faeries would have a place in it.

The human camp itself was also impressive. It didn’t gleam under the sun as if were a shimmering diamond, like the faeries did, but the long rows of tents, perfectly distributed one after the other, were somehow as imposing they were, with the human soldiers’ eyes never once leaving the retinue, their hands casually resting on their weapons. 

The camp was divided into sections, with the lower rank soldiers occupying the outermost ring.As they advanced deeper into the camp, the mistrust in the human’s eyes grew together with their rank. The camp seemed never-ending, the different rings stretching as far as Doyoung’s eyes could see but, finally, they reached the tent that signaled the start of the last ring.

Not all the faeries entered the inner circle of the human camp, just a selected few, Doyoung among them. Yuta led the way, his most trusted guards at both his sides, Jungwoo riding behind him. Jaehyun rode beside Ten and Doyoung, while the rest of the delegation waited for them outside, far enough to be a show of faith, close enough to be of assistance if the need arose.

It was clear which tent was the one they were looking for: painted in a deep red, it attracted everyone’s attention to itself. It wasn’t much bigger than the rest, but it was well guarded, the difference obvious even for untrained eyes such as Doyoung’s, and there was more space around it than there was around the rest.

They were dismounting their horses when the tent’s flaps were moved away and three figures came out of it, one of them falling behind the other two. Flanked by soldiers, the faeries were lead to where they were standing. Doyoung had never seen them before, but he didn’t need it to know who they were.

Around him, the males he’d come with bowed their heads in deference, the two humans doing the same in response. Doyoung, unsure of his own position within the group, fell to his knees, bowing deeply. Almost immediately, he felt hands trying to get him up, but he didn’t move, not until he was told so by the human kings.

Those were the people they had come to see, after all, the rulers of the human kingdoms, or one of them, at least. Doyoung wasn’t sure which one of them was the one Yuta had been speaking to, had never been anywhere near royalty, save for the faerie king, but even him had his suspicions.

It was hard not to, when the news of the engagement had been heard all over the kingdoms, the king betrothed to a royal of the neighbouring country, the Second prince that had fallen to his knees at the sight of the king. That was what the stories told, at least, stories that Doyoung had always dismissed as lies, but seeing them standing one beside the other, Doyoung found it a little easier to believe them.

Despite not having seen them before, Doyoung knew who they were as he laid eyes on them. The tales about king Taeyong always talked about his unparalleled beauty, and it was true. Doyoung hadn’t been living among faeries for long, but he had seen them, seen how beautiful they were. Still, most of them couldn’t compare to the human king, so beautiful it was breathtaking. The stories had failed to deliver the kindness he radiated, though, even when standing in front of a hostile delegation. And standing by his side, tall, even more so than they said, was his betrothed, Youngho, second prince to the kingdom on the other side of the sea. Behind them, stood another human, dressed in plainer robes, slight dimples denting his cheeks as he smiled politely at the faeries.

Both royals seemed kind, nice, even, but Doyoung’s experience with royalty had been disappointing, to say the least, and the way they stared at him, a little in awe, as if surprised to see him breathing, set him on edge, made him squirm. 

Yuta took a step forward, both human royals turning their heads to look at him.

“King Taeyong. Prince Youngho,” he nodded in their direction as he said their names. “We finally meet.”

“King Yuta,” Taeyong replied, with a slight smile. “We were wondering when we’d see you at last.”

“We were wondering if we’d ever see him,” the Prince added, his eyes fixed on Doyoung. He looked at him with curiosity, maybe a little pity shining in his dark eyes. Everyone turned to look at him, and Doyoung stood straighter, fighting the need to turn around and run.

“We do not kill humans, not anymore,” Yuta replied, his tone icy. Youngho turned to look at him, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips, dangerous glint in his eye.

“That’s what we want to believe, given the proposition you came to us with, but we can’t risk blind trust, as you can surely understand.”

“That’s enough, Youngho,” Taeyong said with a low growl, putting his hand on Youngho’s chest, as if he were to physically stop him. Somehow, it worked, Youngho kept quiet, part of the tension seemingly leaving his body. “I believe this is a conversation we ought to keep inside. If you’d be so kind so as to follow us,” he pointed at the tent behind them. “Not all of you, I’m afraid.”

Yuta nodded, apparently not surprised by the request. “Ten, Jaehyun, come with me.” 

Both males took a step forward to follow them, but were stopped by Taeyong’s guards, who had stepped in front of them, preventing their advance. Yuta turned to look at them, then at the human king, his brows raised.

“We’re sorry, but even here come the rumours. We don’t have anything against your advisor, but we’d prefer if our emotions remained ours, and not what your friend makes them. I’m sure you’ll understand,” Taeyong said, the smile never leaving his lips. It didn’t fool anyone.

“Of course. Jaehyun, stay here with Doyoung.”

The guards moved aside so that Ten could walk up to them, and then the five of them left, leaving the rest behind, ignoring Jaehyun’s weak protests.

***

“We’re sorry it had to come to this, but I’m sure you’ll understand.”

Yuta shook his head, sitting down in front of the human kings, Ten by his side. “Of course we do. We would have done the same, had we been in your shoes. May I ask how you knew?”

“We have our sources. And rumours aren’t stopped by the border, so we’ve heard about you. All of you,” Youngho smiled, barely a tilt of his lips. Yuta mimicked his expression.

“Is that so? And what have you heard about us?”

"Enough to worry about that man's safety."

Yuta cocked his head, brows raised. Beside him, Ten stood, tense as a bowstring.

"Why did you really summon me here? Not to waste my time, I hope." 

"We'd never dare do that, Yuta, if I may call you that," Taeyong spoke, his voice grave. Yuta flicked his eyes back to him, and gave a curt nod in response. "But you must understand us. We want to believe you and your vision of the future. No one wants this war to end more than I do, more than the humans do, but you're the first king to reach out in years, and you're known to be merciless."

"Surely, you wouldn't expect our king to release the human as if nothing had happened. He was the one who was attacked," Ten interjected, briskly. Taeyong huffed, rolling his eyes.

"If your king had been killed or badly injured by a human in his sleep, it would have been a sign, of weakness. We wouldn't hold a treaty with someone who's hurt by a sole human, in the middle of his kingdom. The only one at risk that night was Doyoung, who happens to be one of my subjects, not yours," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But we didn't expect him to walk away like nothing had happened. We wouldn't have trusted your intentions either."

"Then, what did you expect?" Yuta asked, somewhat intrigued by the human king.

"For him to die, at some point. Or be maimed. We didn't expect him to be banished from the human kingdoms--"

"Over which you don't have any real power," Youngho pointed out.

"--Or come back unharmed."

"His punishment was clear," Yuta frowned. "I carried it out as I said I would. I hope you're not planning on asking me to give him to you, because that is not going to happen."

"That we know," Taeyong admitted.

"Then, what is the issue? Why has the king been brought here?"

"You already know why," Youngho said.

Yuta sat back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Humor me."

Taeyong sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We believe you have the best intentions in mind. At least, I do, Youngho is more sceptical, but we think you're being honest, and we share that vision," he said, Youngho frowning at them, but nodding at Taeyong's words. "We've heard the stories about you, Yuta. How you rose to power and the changes you made, the changes you want to do. My father used to tell me stories about you," Taeyong confessed, smiling to himself. Even Youngho seemed taken aback at that. "It's why I didn't immediately burn the letter you sent me, like my advisors told me to." Taeyong raised his head, staring right at Yuta's eyes. "I want to believe you, I really do, but I am the king. I can't lead my people based on dreams and old bedtime stories."

"You need reassurance. That I won't break my word," Yuta guessed. 

"My people need reassurance," he corrected softly. "If they don't believe you, this treaty won't mean anything. They need to trust it, you, and that you won't let it be breached."

Something in Taeyong's words, in his tone, irked Yuta, even if he couldn't put his finger on what exactly it, not at first. Youngho's frown had turned deeper, his body turned slightly towards Taeyong's, and Yuta noticed his hand has inched closer to the pommel of his sword. 

"I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying, king Taeyong," Ten hissed, his voice cold as steel. Taeyong looked at him, unimpressed.

"I said exactly what I wanted to say."

"You'd think I'd pursue a treaty I'd purposefully break later?" Yuta asked.

"You wouldn't be the first faerie to try and lull us into a false sense of security," Taeyong replied, his eyes scanning Yuta's face. "But I don't think you'd do that, I don't think you're that kind of person. Or king."

"Then, what is it you're suggesting, that I'd leave some of my subjects just cross the border and do whatever they wanted to you humans, without reinforcing the treaty when they did so?"

Taeyong bit his lip, as if carefully constructing his sentences. "Maybe. Though, willingly or not, that I can't say."

Yuta frowned for a second, until the realization dawned upon him. "You think I don't have enough power to reinforce the treaty, don't you?" The humans looked at each other briefly, and Taeyong closed his eyes. They both stayed silent, and Yuta continued speaking. "I wondered why you hadn't asked me to bring the human. I thought you surely had heard about him, about his imprisonment, yet you never asked to see him. You knew about the terms of his punishment, didn't you?"

"Those... Might have crossed the border too," Youngho admitted when Taeyong said nothing.

"You wanted me to bring him willingly. You wanted to see if I brought him, and the state he was in without forcing me to bring him in one piece."

Taeyong's cheeks were slowly being tinted rose, but he didn't open his mouth to say anything.

"You gambled with that man's life." Ten pointed out, something like surprise, and a hint of admiration creeping into his voice.

"The people need reassurance," Youngho interrupted, his voice lowering, slightly shaking, almost imperceptibly.

"That man is your subject," Yuta pressed on.

"As are thousands more," Taeyong finally said, seating straighter. "I prayed for his health, for his return, but if I have to sacrifice one life for the sake of many others, that I will. We've been fighting for years," he said, his voice suddenly tired, sounding older than his years. "This peace is what we've been dreaming of for generations. It would be easy enough for you to make us believe in your intentions, make us fall for it, and attack when we were the most vulnerable. But if you can't warrant the security of one human prisoner within your castle, how will we trust you with many others, all out of reach?"

A part of him was oddly impressed, Yuta had to admit to himself. It was just then when he started to see the dark circles under Taeyong's eyes, the way something akin to guilt clouded his eyes. It was eating him from the inside, to turn his back to one of his like that, and yet he still did it.

"What do you want to do, then?" He asked, softly.

"I can't even remember what I called you here for," he admitted, letting out a humourless laugh, accompanied by a sigh. "It doesn't matter now. I, we, got what we wanted," Taeyong moved his hands, encompassing all three humans. He then leaned forward, his elbows resting on his legs. ”What comes next is up to you. My council is still debating whether to accept the terms of the treaty, but I think they will. Youngho's family approves of it, so we have support from across the sea. What's left is for you to do, raid the nobles behind you, make sure they'll behave, keep Doyoung alive. Earn our trust," he said, enunciating every word slowly. "And then, we can sign the treaty, let it be peace."

Yuta stared at him, seconds ticking away into minutes. Taeyong's gaze didn't waver, not once, and finally, Yuta nodded. Both of them stood up, Youngho imitating their moves, and turned towards the door.

"Taeyong," Yuta called. The king hummed, waiting for him to speak. "Doesn't telling me all this defeat the whole purpose?"

Taeyong shook his head. "I told you, I trust you, as a person. It's always been your role as a king that's had me more worried, but I want to believe in you, in us," he replied, smiling softly. He pushed the tent's flaps away, allowing Yuta and Ten to walk before him. Youngho had already left, walking away with long, purposeful strides. "I am not fond of the idea of leaving Doyoung alone there, but I don't think you'd allow him to come back, and I don't want to start a diplomatic conflict before we can even start our relationship. Also, as much as it pains me, Youngho is right: we need him there," he shielded his eyes with his hand and looked at Doyoung, standing in the distance. "I trust you to keep your people in tow, Yuta," Taeyong turned to him, hope in his eyes.

"That's always been my wish," Yuta admitted.

"Let's hope that, for the sake of both our people, we can do this. We're tired of being slaughtered, Yuta. We just want peace," Taeyong said, as they walked towards Doyoung and the others. 

Yuta didn't miss the way Taeyong spoke, as if his whole life had been a constant fight and, maybe it had. Yuta himself was older than Taeyong by centuries, faeries living longer than humans, but he had known periods of peace, albeit short. Taeyong hadn't had that luxury.

"That's what I want too," he replied. It had been a dream of his since he had been young, to not have his nights coated in red, but, for many decades, it had been little more than a child's dream. 

"You, but not your people," it was soft, more a statement that a question, but Yuta felt compelled to answer nonetheless.

"We are tired too, Taeyong. We want it to end. But there are many who see in change, in me, a threat to their way of living, who do not wish to change their beliefs. It will be hard, but as long as I'm king, as long as I'm alive, I'll try my best to unite our people."

"Long live the king, then."

Yuta glanced at Taeyong, and found him already looking at him, his face dead serious. It was then that they reached the others, and whatever he thought of replying was forgotten. Jaehyun was deep in conversation with Jungwoo, but Doyoung was staring. He did that a lot, Yuta had realized. He looked at others as if he could read on their faces the answers he was seeking.

"We're leaving," Yuta announced, attracting Jaehyun and Jungwoo's attention. "Let the others know, we'll be leaving as soon as we can."

"That was brief," Jaehyun pointed out, as they walked towards the rest of the retinue.

Yuta nodded. "More than I expected, if I'm being honest, but it's better this way: I don't like being away for too long, especially now."

That earned him a smile from Jaehyun, and a clap on the back, maybe a little too forceful. Jaehyun then jogged behind Ten, to help him speed up the process and leave the human camp. It was different from what he had expected from it, at first. He had thought the humans would sneer at him, be tense and aggressive, their hands itching to grab their swords and fight them, but it wasn't like that. There was suspicion in their faces, their eyes following them around, but for the most part, they kept to themselves, staying out of the way. They didn't seem belligerent, or at least not to the extent of the faery camps he had been to. Maybe that was what believing in your leader did to someone, he thought to himself, not without bitterness.

As they made their way back to their horses, Yuta felt Doyoung silently fall into step beside him.He didn't say anything at first, and neither did Yuta, waiting for the human to speak his mind.

"Did you get what you were looking for?"

"Not quite," he admitted, after a little doubt. "But I'm a step closer."

Doyoung nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor, hands deep in his suit's pockets. He nibbled at his bottom lip, as if debating whether or not to speak, and Yuta waited patiently for him to make up his mind.

"I know what I did, and what my punishment was and I won't fight it, but, is there any chance I can be free, at some point? Or will I live in your castle until they slit my throat and leave me to die in some dark corner?"

The question, no matter how predictable, still managed to surprise Yuta, perhaps because of the crude wording of it, perhaps because of the defeated tone in which they had been spoken. He turned to reply at Doyoung, but his reply was forgotten when he saw them: to their left, beneath a tree, stood three boys, smiling like they didn't have a care in the world. One of them was tall, and he laughed with his whole body, large hands clapping to accentuate his laughter. The second one was smaller, thin, with curly brown hair that reminded Yuta of the puppies he had seen around the castle. He had bright eyes and a gentle smile. 

But it was the third that really caught his attention, the one he couldn't stop looking at. He was delicate, his sun-kissed skin like caramel, his features sculpted by the hands of the gods. He practically glowed under the Sun. His smile was bright, only dimmed when he turned around, meeting eyes with Yuta, who felt the breath being knocked out of his lungs. 

The eye contact didn't last more than a few seconds, but it was enough to make the boy frown, confused, enough for Doyoung to notice and stare at them, his gaze jumping from one to the other. Yuta hastily tore his eyes away, but it was pointless.

"Why are you staring at the prince?" Asked Doyoung. Yuta frowned.

"The prince? Taeyong doesn't have any brothers. Or sons,” Doyoung shook his head briefly.

"He's prince Youngho's brother, not the king's. Jaehyun told me," he added, at Yuta questioning eyes. Yuta hummed, lost in thought. "Do you know him?"

"No," he replied, without noticing the words slipping out of his mouth. When he did, he tensed, but Doyoung's confused eyes prompted to continue. "He looks like someone I used to know, a long time ago."

"That boy can't be older than twenty, and he's a human..." Doyoung said slowly, as if Yuta had failed to acknowledge that.

"That's why he looks like someone I used to know," he replied, his tone maybe a bit too rude, as it made Doyoung frown and step away, his eyes shining in anger. Yuta felt something clawing at the edges of his conscience, something that felt suspiciously like guilt. "I'm sorry. I'm tired, I shouldn't have talked like that," he said, without looking at Doyoung.

He didn't get a reply, but Doyoung stayed where he was, if not a bit closer, as they walked back to where everyone was waiting for them.

***

By the time they reached the castle, Doyoung was exhausted. The ride had been unforgiving, the pace set by the king brutal, no matter the stops they had regularly made. Around them, everyone looked tired, but Doyoung suspected those stops had been mainly for him, the king asking for them to rest when Doyoung had always been on the brink of falling off the horse, as if he had been watching him.

It didn't matter. He hadn't died during the ride, which he appreciated, but he was the son of a blacksmith, and he'd never gotten many chances to mount a horse, much less cover long distances on top of one. When the castle walls came into sight, Doyoung almost wept in relief and when he stumbled off his stallion, he would have fallen to the ground, his legs unable to sustain him, had it not been for the king's hand, keeping him standing.

It was late, the evening had crept upon them without them noticing and Doyoung wanted nothing but to sleep, his body screaming for rest. His thighs burned, his hands were raw and his head hurt as if someone had repeatedly hit him with a hammer. He must have looked as bad as he felt, because, as they waited for the horses to be unsaddled to retrieve their things, Jungwoo stayed by his side, wearily eyeing him, as if fearing what would happen if he were to leave Doyoung on his own.

Not that Doyoung himself noticed any of that. He was tired, sleep clawing at the edges of his mind. He was slightly rocking to his sides, his body incapable of keeping him standing, and he didn't notice it at first, not when Jungwoo left, and not how the ground seemed to be closer with each passing second. 

It was only when something curled around his upper arm, narrowly keeping him from smashing his head against the floor, that he noticed he was falling.

Clumsily, he tried to get himself up again, the grip on his arm only lessening when he was back on two legs. Even then, it stayed there, as if worried Doyoung was going to fall down once again. Doyoung turned his head to thank whoever was holding him still, and found Yuta’s eyes staring at him. Momentarily surprised, his words forgotten, he nodded instead, and Yuta tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes never leaving Doyoung’s face.

“You should go get some rest,” he said. Doyoung opened his mouth in protest. “It wasn’t really a suggestion, Doyoung. You can barely stand, you need some rest.”

Without waiting for an answer, Yuta softly pushed him to move. It might have been a testament to Doyoung’s tiredness, for he didn’t even complain, just tiredly doing what Yuta told him to do. 

Had he been asked to tell how he had arrived at the king’s quarters, Doyoung wouldn’t have been able to answer: the whole walk there was a blur, with his only clear memory, that of a hand guiding him through the corridors. While they had been riding, he hadn’t been as aware of how exhausted he was, but, as the tension from the trip disappeared from his veins, it was replaced with an imperious need to sleep, demanding enough that, when the king opened the door, and Doyoung passed the threshold, he didn’t even bother with the bed, instead letting the couch swallow him whole. 

He was asleep in an instant, not noticing anything around him, not until something crashed, jolting him awake. At first, he didn’t know where he was, nor what had woken him up. He sat up, shoving aside a blanket he didn’t remember grabbing, and rubbed the sleep of his eyes.

Blinking, he let his eyes adjust to the dark, and finally made out a silhouette. 

“Yuta?” He asked, his voice still gruff with sleep.

“I’m sorry I woke you, Doyoung,” was the response. Doyoung yawned.

“What are you doing?”

“I had a meeting with part of the Council. I was trying to get in without disturbing you, I’m sorry.”

“A meeting with the Council? Isn’t it a bit late for that? Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?” 

“You should go back to sleep,” Yuta replied instead. Doyoung arched an eyebrow at that, feeling more awake then.

“ _You_ should go to sleep.”

Yuta shook his head, as vehemently as he could. “No, I don’t. I’m not tired.”

"Even kings need to sleep."

"Kings need to rule their kingdom," Yuta said, his words slightly slurred. Doyoung huffed.

"Dead kings rule no kingdoms," he replied slowly, as if talking to a child.

"I won't die."

Doyung arched an eyebrow. ”I know nothing about faeries but I do know even your kind need to sleep. You are of no use to anyone when you can't even stay upright."

"You hate this kingdom and you hate me, Doyoung. What do you even care?" Yuta replied, raising his voice.

Doyoung opened his mouth, then closed it. Yuta stared at him expectantly, until Doyoung scowled and replied, ignoring how his stomach churned at it. 

“If you fall, we all fall, the whole kingdom does. And while you might not care enough to see it, I would appreciate living whatever is left of my mortal life until I die of old age, even if it is in this wretched castle,” he hissed. Yuta seemed momentarily perplexed by his words, before smoothing his expression back into one of blandness. 

“Do you hate this place so much?” The question, softly spoken, surprised Doyoung.

“You haven’t really given me much choice, have you?”

Yuta smiled, bitterness dripping from it. “I guess I haven’t. I suppose it’d be better for you if I died. You’d be free to go then.”

Doyoung snorted. “I told you, I do not wish to die earlier than I have to, which would happen if _you_ died while I’m here.”

Yuta cocked his head to the side, hair falling into his eyes. “What if you didn’t die? What if I gave orders to get you out of here immediately, in case I died?”

And for the second time that night, Doyoung found himself speechless, staring at Yuta with his mouth slightly hanging. Some remote corner of his mind took in the honesty in Yuta’s voice, the eagerness in his eyes, and tucked away for later, when it wasn’t that late, when the confusion in him left. 

Yuta was waiting patiently for him to reply.

“Just go to sleep, Yuta. You don’t know what you’re saying, you need to rest.”

Doyoung’s fingers itch with the need to push Yuta away, forcibly making him get in his room, anything, as long as he stops standing there, looking at Doyoung, as if he could read his every secret, written on his face.

Finally, Yuta turned away and left, silently closing the door behind him, and Doyoung let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, burying his hands in his hair. A part of him wanted to examine what Yuta had said, the implications it had but the other, some exhausted and scared part of his brain wanted to forget about it, close his eyes and turn his back to it. And so he did.

It was easy to ignore, relegate a single memory to a dark corner of his mind where he didn’t have to touch it, didn’t have to act upon it. Doyoung never brought it up, not even with himself, and Yuta never mentioned it again. It would have been hard for him to do so, even if he had wanted to, for, after that conversation, he had vanished, Doyoung left with no idea of where he was, what he was doing. It took him two weeks before he saw Yuta again.

It was a strange thing, but Doyoung didn’t like sleeping with the doors closed. It was a reminiscence of his childhood days, when he had been a child hopelessly scared of the dark. His father would leave his door open, the dying lights of the hearth enough to dissipate the darkness, long enough for Doyoung to fall asleep. 

Doyoung wasn’t an infant, terrified of the dark, not anymore, but old habits die hard, and he could never sleep if his door was closed. Even in the castle, he left the door to his room wide open, and when the king came back, stumbling through the adjacent room, he was instantly awake. 

He didn't think Yuta had noticed he had woken up: his eyes were sunken, dark shadows he hadn't previously noticed underneath them. There were lines around his mouth, signs of the enormous stress he carried on his shoulders. His hair was in disarray, and he didn't think he'd ever changed out of the riding leathers he had worn during the journey back.

Yuta practically dragged himself to his bedroom, movements devoid of the grace that was so characteristic of him. Before Doyoung could even think of helping him, as the king had helped him before, Yuta had disappeared behind the door that led to his room. Doyoung stared at it, brows furrowed, slightly confused. Even if Doyoung had fallen asleep during the evening, a brief glance at the window was enough to see that night had fallen, and it seemed weird for Yuta to be out so late.

Still, the remnants of sleep that clung to him were more enticing than wondering about the king's whereabouts, and so Doyoung soon closed his eyes, slowly returning to his peaceful sleep.

It didn't last long, much to Doyoung's chagrin, for someone started to knock insistently on the door. That, and the mix of voices coming from the corridor, was enough to jerk Doyoung awake, disoriented at first, progressively angrier the longer the noise continued. Pushing himself off the bed, he strode towards the door, violently opening it.

There, he was met with two flustered guards, the ones he recognized from the time he had spent locked up in the cell, and a handful of nobles. Doyoung didn't know their names, but the faces were vaguely familiar. Important enough to be granted an audience with the king, but not so much they were memorable, he guessed.

His sudden appearance was enough to silence them all for a couple seconds, before the nobles turned to him, a sneer on their faces.

"We're here to see the king," one of them, old, enough for his hair to start greying, said. The others, behind him, nodded.

Doyoung nodded too. "That's fantastic," he said. The noblemen took a step forward. "But I'm afraid that's impossible," he continued, standing in their way, blocking the access to the room. "The king doesn't wish to be disturbed."

"We're not taking orders from a human," one of the noblemen icily replied.

"But you're not taking my orders," Doyoung said, his eyes wide and innocent. "It's what your king says. I'm sure you don't want to go against his orders."

"And I'm sure he’ll appreciate knowing what I have to say."

"Unless someone's dying, I highly doubt that. So, tell me, is it that important that it can't wait until tomorrow?" His question was met with blank stares, angry eyes. "It's a simple question, gentlemen, so I guess it can wait until tomorrow." Doyoung shot them a sickly sweet smile. "Please, escort these men out of the king's quarters," he nodded at the guards.

Both of them looked at each other, nervous, their eyes jumping to the noblemen, then Doyoung then each other again. Doyoung crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at them, arching an eyebrow. They must have seen something in his face, as that was enough to prompt them into moving, motioning for the noblemen to follow him.

Doyoung waited until all the nobles were gone, propped against the door jam. He didn't miss the venomous looks that were thrown at him and let out a shaky breath, his eyes closed, as he let go of his appearance of confidence.

At the sound of footsteps approaching, he reopened his eyes, and stared at both guards. He knew who they were, if not by name, then by face, one of the few things he remembered clearly from the time he spent in the cell. 

They looked young, even more so than he remembered. He knew faeries aged differently than humans, their youthful faces a cover for old souls, but something in them, maybe the gleam in their eyes or the way they stood, made him think they were little older than children.

Both of them stood, their heads hanging low, dark hair covering their eyes, as if they were unable to look at him, no matter his human nature. Doyoung felt a pang of sympathy for them.

"Who is it that you serve?" He asked, softly.

The guards looked at each other, debating between themselves. The shortest of the two answered.

"The king," it was barely audible, his intonation making it seem more like a question than a statement. Doyoung nodded.

"You serve the king. Not them, not anyone else but the king. Remember that when they barge into his rooms in the middle of the night and start making demands. Think before you let yourselves be pushed around. You never know who you'll be letting in."

Doyoung looked at both of them as he spoke, something like guilt in the way they bit their lips, played with their hands. He didn't wait for a reply before he took a step back and closed the door. Resting his forehead against the cool wood, he let out a breath of relief, the tiredness crashing against him once again.

Pushing himself off the door, he turned around and froze: standing right in front of him, half in shadows, was Yuta. They stared at each other in silence, Doyoung feeling as if he had been caught in the middle of something bad, Yuta studying him as if he were a riddle he was just then seeing in a new light.

"I didn't tell you I was tired, and I didn't ask you to do that," Yuta said, his eyes unreadable.

"You didn't have to, not when it was that obvious," Doyoung replied, his throat parched.

"Why?" A single word, carrying so much. 

"Everyone needs to sleep, even you."

"So you said," Yuta said. There was something in his tone Doyoung couldn't identify and so he stood there, trying not to squirm under the weight of Yuta's eyes on him. "They will remember this."

Doyoung shrugged, feigning more nonchalance than he really felt. "Let them. I doubt they had ever forgotten about me and it's not like they can do much when I can never leave this room."

Yuta nodded slowly, even if Doyoung doubted he had been fooled by the words, his eyes never leaving Doyoung's face.

"You need better guards," he blurted out, wanting something, anything, to break the silence that had settled over them. The corner of Yuta's lips inched upwards.

"They need to start being guards, forget who they were. They'll learn," Doyoung nodded, as if he understood what Yuta meant. "Is that how you got in that night? You were with them?"

Doyoung shook his head. "I don't know," he honestly replied. "I can't remember that night, but it might have been what happened."

Yuta hummed to himself, lost in his own mind for a moment.

"Thank you, Doyoung," he said, his voice softer than before. "I appreciate what you've done." Doyoung tipped his head in silent acceptance. "And you are not confined here," Doyoung looked up, confused. "I wouldn't recommend it but, if you wish, you're free to roam the castle, though I do advise you don't do it alone, at least for the time being."

At that, Doyoung's face was split with a bright smile, one that was fast gone, but that earned him another from Yuta in return, before the king turned around and went back to his room. Doyoung did the same, falling asleep feeling lighter than he had earlier.

***

It was a nice place, the library. Tall ceilings, long rows of shelves, filled with books. Granted, most of them written in an old, probably dead, language Doyoung couldn’t read, but it was a nice place. Comforting, even. And most importantly, practically deserted, something Doyoung thanked whatever entity was out there for. 

Doyoung had never been very fond of reading but he was slowly growing accustomed to it, enjoying the peace it brought him, the knowledge he absorbed. It was a good place to hide in, as it seemed both mortals and immortals shared the same distaste regarding books, and rarely anyone set foot within it. The few who did so, however, kept to themselves, barely sparing Doyoung a glance. Or rather, most of them did.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for the last half an hour,” a voice to Doyoung’s right pointed out. Doyoung closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, counted to ten. He opened them again.

“Maybe because you’ve been staring at me for the last half an hour,” he replied, looking to the side to look at the faerie sat beside him. 

Said faerie cocked his head, pursing his lips. “Did I disturb you?”

“I’m afraid so, yes,” Doyoung admitted, speaking through clenched teeth.

“Why? I wasn’t doing anything. Just looking at you.”

Doyoung opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. He sighed. “Don’t worry about it, Mark.”

Mark frowned, but the line between his brows smoothed shortly after, the bland expression he always wore promptly returning. It was something Doyoung had noticed, the way Mark seemed to be somewhere else, even when in a conversation with someone. He appeared to be young, much younger than Doyoung himself, but his eyes had that faraway look that rarely left, as if seeing something the others didn’t, as if lost in his own head, that made him look older.

It unsettled him, if he were to be honest. There was something about the faerie that made Doyoung feel on edge, even more so the first few days they had seen each other. With every passing week, that sensation had faded away, helped by Mark’s easy-going demeanour and blinding smiles. Doyoung had found himself growing fonder of the faerie, despite Mark himself being a walking contradiction, a soul that was both young and old in a body barely over adolescence. The contrast between both was enough to make Doyoung shudder.

“Doyoung,” Mark called him. Doyoung hummed, not taking his eyes off the book in front of him. 

The silence between them stretched, until Doyoung lifted his head, eyed Mark questioningly. At the blank look in the boy’s eyes, Doyoung sighed. It was one of those days, then. 

Doyoung carefully closed the book, marking the page he was on, and propped his chin on his fist.

“What is it, Mark?”

Mark blinked owlishly, once, twice, before replying. “You see things,” Doyoung waited for the faerie to continue speaking, but instead was met with silence and expectant eyes.

“I do. That’s what eyes are for, after all,” he enunciated his words clearly, as if talking to an infant. Mark looked confused for a moment, before shaking his head vigorously.

“No. You don’t see things, you _see_ things.”

Doyoung sat back in his chair, his arms crossed in front of his chest, brows arched. Mark looked at him with his eyes wide open, as if he could make Doyoung understand his words just by staring at him. 

It took him longer than Mark expected but, finally, the pieces fell into place in Doyoung’s mind, and his eyes lit up. He opened his mouth and let out a soft _oh_. Mark nodded, as vigorously as before, briefly reminding Doyoung of dogs he used to see back in his hometown, before he pushed those thoughts away.

“How do you know that?” Suspicion and wariness were evident in his voice, and Doyoung inwardly grimaced at his own tone, even if Mark didn’t seem to notice, nor care.

“That’s what we do. We know things, we _see_ things.”

“‘We’? Who’s ‘we’?” If Mark noticed his obvious attempt at stalling, he said nothing about it.

“The priests and priestesses. That’s why we’re chosen, because we see things others don’t.” Doyoung thought of Sunmi, with her billowing dress and kind eyes, and of the girl that trailed her like a shadow, her long, dark hair almost flowing around her, as she looked at him like she knew all his secrets. Somehow, it made sense, as much as it didn’t. “Sometimes, it’s not as much seeing, as _seeing_.”

Doyoung snorted at the faerie’s words, but he couldn’t deny there was some truth in them, some sliver of it that spoke to Doyoung himself. Mark was looking at him, his eyes round and hopeful, waiting for him to reply, and so Doyoung let out a sigh, ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s… I’ve never known how to explain, and it’s been so long since the last time I tried to,” he started, his words half an apology, but the look in Mark’s face didn’t change, just patiently waiting for him to continue. Doyoung closed his eyes briefly. “People do many things during their lives. Some are good, some are bad. I can see… It’s like I can see if they’ve done more good than bad, like I can see the kind of person they are. It’s not much, and it’s… Not exactly that, but it’s the best I can give you.”

Mark tilted his head, bit his lips. “And what do you see here?”

“Blood. Blood everywhere, covering everything, everyone, I can see,” Doyoung whispered, his voice dark. He dragged his eyes to stare directly into Mark’s, and found him with an indecipherable expression in his face. 

“When faeries grow up, those that have powers are taught that they are not two, body and power, but one. You are your power, and your power is a part of you, as much as your arm or leg can be. If you’re sick, it’s not just one part of you that gets sick, it affects the whole body,” Doyoung crossed his arms in front of his chest, confused as to where Mark was going with that. “When your power is _seeing_ , whatever it is you see, sometimes your head can get in the way, can affect the result.”

Doyoung smiled, barely a tug of his lips. “Mark, are you telling me all I see is because I’m prejudiced against you?”

“In short? Maybe,” Mark grimaced, tugging at his ear. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, it would be naive and unrealistic to say so, but, you were dragged here, threatened, beaten and forced to stay. It wouldn’t be that wild to suggest that, maybe, what you’re seeing is a reflection of what you _expect_ to see.”

For a moment, none of them said anything. Doyoung bit his bottom lip, his mind a complete mess. A part of him couldn’t deny there was some resemblance of truth in Mark’s words, but another part refused to believe him, refused to consider it, and the implications it carried. He shook his head, as if that could dissipate his thoughts.

“And you? What do _you_ see?” As soon as the question left Doyoung’s mouth, Mark visibly stiffened, setting his lips into a tight line.

“That’s not important,” that itself was enough to pique Doyoung’s interest, but before he could try to pry any further, Mark’s eyes focused on something behind Doyoung’s shoulder, and he scrambled to stand up. “Your Majesty,” he stammered out. Doyoung craned his neck, to see Yuta standing just a table away. “I will leave now, Sun—, the High Priestess asked me to help Jiwoo with her training, and I’ve delayed it enough as it is.”

The relief in Mark’s voice was unmistakable as he turned around and scurried away, narrowly avoiding colliding with people and objects on his way out. Doyoung found himself smiling despite that, the affection he felt for the faerie growing with each passing day. He briefly contemplated following his steps and leave the library, but he pushed those thoughts away as soon as they appeared in his head.

“How much have you heard?” He asked instead, his stomach tightening in something like worry.

The sound of steps approaching was his only answer at first. Yuta let himself fall onto the chair opposite to Doyoung, under his watchful eyes, a slight smile gracing his lips.

“Enough, I believe,” Doyoung closed his eyes, let his head hang low between his shoulders, and kept silent. He didn’t have to wait long. “So that is what you can do.”

“That’s what I can do,” he acknowledged, nervously playing with the hem of his clothes.

“Is that the extent of your ability?”

“Sometimes…,” Doyoung hesitated, averted his eyes. “Sometimes I can see it with objects too, but it’s rare, and quite odd.”

Yuta nodded, slowly. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Doyoung’s eyes returned to Yuta, surprised by the question. Yuta himself seemed a little surprised, but he didn’t take it back.

“I think you know what I see,” Doyoung said, tried to gain time.

“I’d like you to tell me,” was the curt response.

Doyoung nervously twisted his fingers, turned around to face another way. He didn’t want to. If it had been some other time, some other place, some other person, he might have said it. But his mind was muddled, his thoughts jumbled together with Mark’s words, and he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t separate what was true from what it wasn’t. There were images in his mind, dripping red mixed with petals, there where the dreams and the mind are one and the same, and what had once been crystal clear was slowly turning dark. 

There was an answer to the question, that much Doyoung knew. But he wasn’t sure he had the one.

“Mark was lying,” Yuta said instead, as if trying to distract Doyoung from his own thoughts. “I just spoke to Sunmi on my way here, she was going to meet Jiwoo herself.”

“I thought faeries couldn’t lie,” he replied, grateful for the reprieve.

“Everyone can lie,” even without looking at him, Doyoung could picture the way Yuta would shrug his shoulders at that, his face bored. “We can’t lie directly, but there are other ways to lie.” 

“He might have just said the wrong name.”

“Maybe. But he’s never been the usual faerie, anyway,” Doyoung waited for Yuta to explain himself, but was met with silence. Rolling his eyes, he turned around in his chair, so that he was facing Yuta, and looked impatiently at him. “He has lived enough during his lives for him to be an exception to everything.”

“Lives?” Doyoung repeated, unsure of what he had just heard. Yuta smiled.

“Mark wasn’t always a faerie,” Yuta said. His smile grew wider at Doyoung’s bewildered expression. “He was born a human, that’s why his name’s Mark. But something happened, and now he’s here, stuck in an immortal body, cursed to see his loved one born and die, over and over again.”

“What happened?” Doyoung couldn’t keep the pain, the horror, from his voice, his heart bleeding for the faerie.

Yuta shrugged, but the grim look in his eyes was enough to break the nonchalant image he tried to project. “No one knows. I found Mark one day, beyond our borders, and he was almost broken. I brought him over, and Sunmi took care of him, made sure he recovered, gave him a place to be. Sometimes, he leaves: some months, a couple years, maybe a decade; it varies. Then he comes back, looking almost like he did the day I found him. And the cycle starts once again. Maybe you’ll still be here when the next one starts,” he added, as if in afterthought. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just that… I might know where to find what he’s looking for.”

“And are you going to tell him?”

Yuta grimaced, rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I don’t know yet. Maybe it’ll be best if he stays in the dark. Sometimes, they can’t find each other, maybe this can be one of those times,” but even as he spoke, Doyoung could see the uncertainty behind his words, the hesitation in Yuta’s resolve. “It’s not like we need another diplomatic conflict, anyway.”

"Another diplomatic...?" Doyoung's eyes widened as he realised. "The human prince?" He exclaimed, barely suppressing his shock. Yuta dipped his head with a grim expression.

"The human prince," he repeated, smiling sardonically. "He has taken many forms during the years, according to Mark. He's always someone different, never remembering who he once was, who Mark is. I had never seen him before, but he wasn't difficult to identify," he admitted. Doyoung could see why he'd say such thing: there was something about the boy that made him stand out, hard to forget, even if Doyoung had only seen him for a split second. "And of course, he had to be human royalty, and make everything more complicated than it already is." 

"You need to tell Mark," Doyoung said, cautiously. 

"And then what? Watch him go after the boy, fall in love all over again as he knows him, have Mark love him from afar until his human life comes to an end and he dies? I've been there many times, Doyoung: it isn't pretty."

"It is not your decision, Yuta."

The look Yuta sent his way was venomous, cold and dark, and for a moment, Doyoung feared that would be it, that would be the last time he overstepped and crossed boundaries, defy the king and walk away with it. But even as those thoughts crossed his mind, he thought of the sad faerie that had been sitting right next to him just a little earlier, the way he didn't seem to be there at all, and he stood his ground. He held Yuta's eyes until the king's shoulders sagged under an invisible weight.

"I know it is not but is it so bad I don't want to see him go through that yet again?" Doyoung smiled weakly at him.

"It is not, but it is his decision to make, no matter how much you may hate it." Yuta pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and let out a breath, as Doyoung looked at him in sympathy. "You don't have to tell him yet if you don't feel like it's the right time, but I do think you should tell him, and let him decide."

A hum and a feeble attempt at a smile was all the response he got from Yuta, as the king let his eyes wander over the books displayed on the table. Doyoung watched him run his hands over the books, before finally setting on the one Doyoung had been reading prior to his arrival. He brought it closer to inspect the cover, the letters of the title almost completely erased by time and use.

“'A story of the faerie folk, their ways and traditions’. You didn't really get too far, did you?" Yuta opened the book to see where Doyoung had stopped at, “'The binding ceremony: origins and development’," he dragged his eyes up to look back at Doyoung. "I see you've chosen a light reading."

Doyoung scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "It was Sunmi's suggestion," he admitted. "Considering I'm going to spend quite some time here, I might as well learn about your kind."

“Sunmi specifically told you to read this?” Doubt was apparent in his voice, but Doyoung nodded. Yuta hummed to himself, mildly surprised. “And how are you finding this book?" Yuta asked, an amused glint in his eyes.

Doyoung opened his mouth to reply, and promptly closed it. He shook his head instead, and Yuta let out a short laugh.

"It's not a bad idea for you to read this, I suppose. But I think you might as well skip the binding part. As interesting as it might be, I doubt it will be of any relevance to you, and it's rarely used these days."

"Why? What is it about?" Doyoung asked, retrieving the book from Yuta's hands.

"It's... Think of human marriage, but a step forward. It's becoming one, in every sense but physical," Yuta said, moving his hands around. "Everything one is, the other becomes too. Everything one owns, the other owns too."

"That sounds a little excessive," Doyoung said.

"Maybe," Yuta admitted. "It used to be considered as the definite form of love, a sign someone was willing to go to every length for their partner, but it's very rare for it to be performed lately. Even if it can be undone, it is hard, and it takes a lot of commitment for one to do such a thing, and it is seen as something very final. It became common back when humans and faeries didn't hate each other, and relationships between both were more the rule than the exception. It was a way to ensure the relationship would not die in a few decades, when the human part did," Yuta smiled at Doyoung, if a bit bitter. "As you can imagine, that is no longer the case."

Yuta averted his eyes when he said that, his expression turning sour all of a sudden, and stopped speaking. Doyoung drummed his fingertips against the edge of the chair he was seated on, the only sound disrupting the deafening silence that had settled around them. Seconds stretched into minutes between them, until Doyoung cleared his throat, ransacking his brain for something to say.

“While I appreciate you explaining to me what the binding is,” he started, managing to capture Yuta’s attention once again, “I highly doubt you came all the way here to tell me that.”

Yuta let out a sigh at that, and cracked his knuckles. The sound was louder than both of them expected, and it was enough for the people around them to swivel their heads their way, indignant frowns etched on their faces. Yuta turned his head down, a sheepish expression on his face, and waited for all of them to return to what they had been doing. Once he was sure no one was looking at them, he spoke, his voice barely above a hushed whisper.

“There are news from the human kingdom. The treaty has been accepted,” Yuta smiled, his eyes crinkling with happiness and amusement at the way Doyoung’s mouth hung open. It took him a few tries to compose himself.

“But that’s great!” He cried out, much louder than he intended for. “That’s great,” he repeated, lower, after the murderous looks shot in their direction. Yuta nodded, and Doyoung frowned at the less than excited movement. “Isn’t it?”

“It is but… It’s not yet signed, and many things could go wrong before it is.”

“It’s still a step closer to having it signed, though,” Doyoung insisted. Yuta bit his bottom lip, unsure. “Where are you going to sign it, at the border?” Yuta ran his left hand through his hair, nervously pushing it back, and that was enough for Doyoung’s stomach to twist in fear concern. He leaned forward. “Yuta, where is the treaty being signed?” 

“Here,” was the quiet response. Doyoung blinked, convinced he had heard wrong. “The treaty is going to be signed here,” Yuta repeated, as if sensing Doyoung’s doubts. “The king is insisting on it, he’s adamant about that.”

“But, the nobles don’t want you to sign the treaty,” Doyoung was sure there had to be some kind of mistake.

“Part of them don’t want me to,” Yuta corrected. “And the same goes for the human noblemen, but the king said I went to see them when they asked, and in return, they must come to us. A sign of good faith, a first step to build the future trust between our people.”

“It makes sense but…”

“It feels like a mistake, I know,” Yuta replied, his voice terribly tired.

“When is it going to be signed?”

“It is yet to be decided, but probably, in two months time, if there are no further complications. If there were, no one knows how long it would take.” A part of Doyoung wanted to reach forward, take Yuta’s hand in his own and reassure him it would all turn out as he wanted it too. Instead, he let his hands drop from the table onto his lap. “This, however, isn’t what I came to tell you,” Doyoung leaned forward. “To celebrate this historical event, Taeil suggested it might be wise to do some kind of celebration, to let the people know it is something we should rejoice about, not hate. That’s why we will be throwing a ball.”

“A ball?”

“Of sorts, yes,” Yuta nodded. “It’s customary among our people to do so, and Taeil thought it might be the best way to make it seem good, normal. It won’t be much, just a small gathering: I do not wish to press our luck more than necessary.”

“Will king Taeyong come?”

“He will be invited, of course, but I doubt the human kings will be willing to come, no matter how good their intentions.”

“Of course, it might not be the best of ideas.”

“It is, however, a ball to celebrate peace between human and faeries, after centuries of war and mistrust,” Yuta started, his words tentative. “We think it would be best if you came too. Only if you want to, of course,” he rushed to add.

“Me?” Doyoung pointed to himself, confused. “I tried to kill you, I’m your prisoner.”

“Precisely because of that you should come! You are the living proof that not every interaction between our people needs to end in bloodshed.”

“I tried to kill you, Yuta,” he repeated. “I don’t think I’m the best person to embody peace.”

“Both of us are alive,” Yuta huffed. “It’s more than what would have happened before I came to the throne. You are breathing, and you’ve kept all your limbs. That is what I consider progress.”

“With such low standards, I am not surprised,” Doyoung replied.

“ _My_ standards are my people’s standards. This might not be much to you, but it is for us, and if we can prove it to the world, then we can make a change, but we need help to truly do so.”

Doyoung wasn’t unfamiliar with the way Yuta’s eyes shone at that moment, but no matter how many times he witnessed it, it always managed to make his heart flutter, the passion and determination burning there making him think of a different world, a better one. Sometimes, it was enough to make him wish he could witness it. Before he could stop himself, he nodded, his head moving on its own accord. 

“I will go to the ball,” he said, this throat dry. Some part of his brain was thinking of all the ways it could go wrong, the myriad of scenarios what would end with his or Yuta’s demise, even both, but he forced them aside, decided to commit Yuta’s bright smile to memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1ANtvBWKGoRGvyQc0Zjkxt?si=cLCf0hwzS9eYGLabIePtjQ)


	3. Chapter 3

Doyoung hadn't spent much time in the ballroom prior to the ball itself but he could still tell they had made an enormous effort, had had no qualms about the decoration and celebration. The whole room seemed to be covered in gold, the chandeliers bathing everything in soft, warm light. Doyoung thought some magic had to be involved, especially when everything was so bright, the lighting more characteristic of the morning than the middle of the night.

The faeries inside were dressed in finery, silks and velvet enhancing their unearthly beauty. They almost glowed under the soft lights. 

There was faint music playing in the background, one that probably came from the corner of the room in which couples were dancing, completely oblivious to the world around them. In a way, it reminded Doyoung of the few celebrations he had attended at home. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was back there, surrounded by the people he had grown up with.

When Doyoung had been growing up, he had heard many stories about faeries. Everyone knew of their beauty, a wonderful exterior to mask the rotten insides, where their cruelty hid, ramping free. Children everywhere grew up to stories of maiming and destruction, babies taken from their cribs in the middle of the night to become toys for the faeries, a temporary distraction until they were tossed aside, broken and hollow. Neither Doyoung nor his brother had been an exception, their father making sure they knew the warnings, the consequences that came with interfering. 

Doyoung knew there were other stories, tales of friendship and love between two seemingly different worlds, but those paled in comparison to the bloodshed that coated their history. How could they not, when they were nothing but a brief beacon of light, suffocated under the rage and horror that made up both races? Still, over the course of the years, sometimes Doyoung had found himself wanting to forget, wanting to be able to close his eyes, and forget the stories that had constituted his entire childhood.

Half-hidden from view, so as to attract as little attention as possible, Doyoung took the ball as an opportunity to observe the faeries as they danced and laughed and spoke to each other. They weren’t that different to humans, Doyoung admitted, if one could ignore the otherworldly beauty and the sparks of magic. 

Maybe it was the wine, sparkly and sweet, that tasted like home, or maybe he was just tired, so tired, but Doyoung could feel his defences lowering, as he allowed himself to enjoy the night, swaying lightly to the sound of music. Not even Lord Jung and his cohort, some of which shot daggers in Doyoung’s direction, could stop him.

Even if the ball was meant as a celebration for the impending treaty, it was too soon to predict whether the faeries in attendance found it something to rejoice or to rebel against. Doyoung hoped it was the first, and silently toasted to that, a safer, better world, for his brother to live in.

“I don’t think you should keep drinking,” a low voice spoke from Doyoung’s right, making him jolt in surprise, almost dropping his glass in the process.

“I’m sorry?” Doyoung frowned, turning to look at the newcomer. He was a faerie, as tall as Doyoung himself, but that was where all similarities ended. His face was delicate, as if sculpted by a very careful hand, his eyes as dark as the night. He stood with an innate grace few possessed, and held himself like he owned the world. He bore no sigils, the rings he wore around his slender fingers just simple bands of gold and silver, none of them signalling as a noblemen, neither by birth nor by marriage. Still, he was dressed in finery, the fit of his clothing speaking of notable wealth. He made Doyoung feel inadequate, standing there in his borrowed clothes, breathing by sheer luck and the king’s mercy.

“You would be surprised to know the havoc that consuming too much wine can cause. I have seen it myself, with faeries much more used to it than yourself, and it isn’t pretty. It might even end in death,” wordlessly, Doyoung gave him the glass, suddenly reminded of the importance of not forgetting what he had been taught as a child. Everything could be a trap, no matter how harmless it seemed. “You must be Doyoung, our human guest.”

It was hard to say if the faerie was mocking him, as he spoke with no inflections, so Doyoung chose to ignore it, not willing to enter a confrontation. 

“And you are?”

“Sicheng,” he replied, his lips barely curving up. Doyoung scrunched his nose, the name familiar for some reason.

“Sicheng… As in Jaehyun’s…?”

“Yes,” for a moment, Sicheng smiled, bright and genuine, making him look more human, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

They stayed there, half hidden in shadows, without speaking to each other. Sicheng didn’t even move as he scrutinized the ballroom, as if waiting for something. When Doyoung opened his mouth to ask him about it, Sicheng moved, seemingly pleased with himself.

“Come. Let’s dance,” he said, waving an impatient hand to get Doyoung to move.

“Excuse me?” He sputtered, caught by surprise.

“You heard what I said, Doyoung,” Sicheng replied, turning to look at the human, tapping his foot against the floor. Doyoung took a deep breath, but Sicheng cut him before he could say anything. “It wasn’t an invitation, Doyoung. Come.”

Doyoung’s eyes jumped from Sicheng’s disgruntled face to his still stretched hand. He waited for something to happen, and when nothing did, he reluctantly moved to follow him. Sicheng turned around on his heel, and lead him to the farthest end of the ball room, where some couples were dancing. Sicheng opened the way, unbothered by the curious, and sometimes disgusted looks, that were shot in their way. With no little surprise, he realized both of them were the focus of the disgust. He hurried to follow Sicheng.

“Have you ever even danced?” Sicheng hissed, as the first notes prompted them to start dancing. Doyoung scrambled to mimic Sicheng’s movements, struggling to keep up with the music.

“Of course not,” he scowled. “I was meant to be a blacksmith, not a dancer,” Doyoung grunted, his eyes not leaving his feet, trying to not step on Sicheng’s.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t an invitation, remember?” At that, or maybe at Doyoung’s desperate attempts at dancing, some of the impatience melted away from Sicheng’s face. He sighed.

“Just follow me, Doyoung, and don’t think about it.”

It was easier said than done, but Doyoung tried his best, stiffly moving around the dance floor, trying his best not to bump into any of the other couples. It helped that Sicheng knew what he was doing, moving around as if he had been born to do so, not having to give more than a passing thought for his body to know what to do, when to do it. He had a natural grace to him, that made it easier for Doyoung to move, when Sicheng guided him without needing to be asked to do so. 

Doyoung knew there were eyes on them, could practically feel them, following their every move, not once leaving them. It was easy to ignore it at first, the way they were constantly being stared at, but even he had his limits. When he grew slightly more comfortable with the motion, confident in his own abilities, he dragged his eyes up, determined to stare back at them until they cowered away. He didn’t expect the king to be one of them, his eyes unreadable. 

“It’s time to change partners,” Sicheng said, getting a little closer, crowding into his space, voice barely audible over the music.

Doyoung whipped his head, alarmed. "What? Sicheng, no!"

His protests didn't matter. Around them, the music continued, picking up its pace, and Sicheng made Doyoung twirl in his arms, directing him towards someone else, before releasing his hands. Doyoung lost his footing for a brief moment, and by the time he had regained it, he found himself trapped in a new embrace.

Raising his head, he met Jaehyun's eyes, already set on him.

"Jaehyun? What is this about?"

Jaehyun's face, normally calm and pleasant, was uncharacteristically cold, his eyes hard. 

"You need to leave, Doyoung," he said. His lips barely moved, his words a whisper that Doyoung strained to hear.

"I can't, Yuta asked me to be here today," he replied, confused. Jaehyun urgently shook his head.

"You need to leave this country, Doyoung. It's not safe. You need to leave, now,” there was something in Jaehyun’s voice, something vaguely familiar and foreign at the same time. It was disorienting. Doyoung gritted his teeth.

"It's never been safe," he growled, feeling the anger grow inside him. "And you all made sure I could never leave, have you forgotten about that, Jaehyun?"

"I'm sorry, Doyoung," Jaehyun's eyes looked at him in desperation, asking him to do something, but Doyoung didn't have the answer he sought. "If there had been another way, believe me, we wouldn't be here, but we all have our duties."

"And isn't your duty towards Yuta, Jaehyun?" 

The music had turned into background noise, something none of them listened to any longer, their bodies moving purely by Jaehyun's muscle memory. Doyoung was pretty sure they had almost collided with other couples twice, but neither of them paid them any mind.

"Of course it is! But if you stay here, you are in danger, and if you are in danger, he will be too. If you stay, you'll both get hurt, Doyoung, don't you understand?"

The urgency in Jaehyun's voice was making itself more apparent with every word that left his lips, and the grip he had on Doyoung was borderline painful, but it wasn't any of those things that made Doyoung's blood freeze in his veins. Jaehyun had always been a calming presence, soothing and inherently good, that much Doyoung could admit, that much he had _seen_. 

He had never once witnessed anything different, but as Jaehyun's fingers dug into his hip, as he tried to convince Doyoung he was in danger, he saw it, the thin trails of red, falling from his ear and nose, then down his chin and his neck, dripping to the tiles beneath their feet. It was little more than a flash, only for him to see, brief enough to make him wonder if he had conjured it himself. Real enough to make him jump out of reach as soon as the music stopped.

"Doyoung...," he said, taking a step towards him, his hand extended as if to touch him.

But Doyoung bolted away from him, not staying to hear what he had to say. He moved as fast as he could without attracting any unnecessary attention, sliding out of the way the moment he was able to. 

Halfway through the room, he turned to look at Jaehyun. He saw him standing close to Sicheng, as another faerie, younger than both of them, jumped to his arms. Jaehyun picked him up, holding him close to his body, and spun him around, twin smiles of happiness in their faces. Something in Doyoung’s chest clenched at the sight, and so he tore his eyes away and resumed his walking.

He was about to reach the door that would lead him out of the ballroom when a girl jumped in front of him. Doyoung skidded to a stop, barely avoiding crashing into her. She was short, with light brown hair that framed her round face, and bangs that caressed her eyes. The dark blue dress she wore made her seem like a ghost, one that gently smiled at him.

"It is time, Doyoung," she said. Her voice was loud, more than he expected, but her words were soft, the way he had seen animals were spoken to sometimes, when they were at risk of being scared. “The ending is near, you can't wait any longer."

That said, she moved out of his way, the smile not once leaving her face. Her dress almost floating behind her, she walked to the left corner of the room, where more faeries dressed in hues of blue were seated. Seated among them was Mark. When he saw Doyoung staring at him, he mouth something that looked like “be careful”. Doyoung turned around and left.

The moment the doors close behind them, trapping the music inside, Doyoung took a breath. It felt as if he had been underwater, his lungs burning, aching for air to fill them in. He hadn't realized just how much he had needed to leave until he had done so. Beside him, his hands had clenched into fists, and he relaxed them as soon as he knew what he was doing. Sighing, he rubbed his face, ignoring the way his palms itched, as if something was crawling beneath the skin, threatening to break free.

It was easier to breathe there, with the cool air refreshing his skin, far from prying eyes, dissecting his every move. It was easier to think without the added pressure.

Slowly, Doyoung made his way to the railing opposite of him. He appeared to have left the ballroom by a door that lead to a corridor, one by the side of the castle, with a railing on its left side, to make sure no one would fall to their deaths. The corridor itself was narrow, but it was wider in the area in front of the door, more a small balcony than a corridor.

The Moon was high in the sky, full and bright. Distantly, Doyoung wondered if his brother was seeing it too, if his family thought of him, as much as Doyoung wished he could think of them. It was wishful thinking, Doyoung knew, but he couldn't stop himself, not then. He wasn't a Seer, didn't have the abilities others did, but he knew, one way or another, everything would end soon enough.

He blinked away the tears that threatened to spill, knowing better than to cry in that castle, and let his eyes absently wander, without taking anything in, just enjoying the peaceful night, as he silently mulled over everything he had heard and seen during the ball. 

"You should have danced with me too".

Doyoung stayed where he was, his back to the king.

"I don't think that would have been appropriate" he snickered, as Yuta came to stand by his side.

"Do you think I care about what's appropriate?”, Doyoung didn't bother with a response, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What do you think about my world?" He then asked, his voice slightly different.

Doyoung let his eyes wander, taking in the mountains and valleys, the top of the trees, glimmering under the moonlight. There were fires burning as far as he could see, each a hearth, a different family. The city was almost invisible, the buildings one with the night, and the air smelt of jasmine and the sea.

"It's beautiful" and it was, even if he hadn't wanted to see it at first.

"Do you still hate it?"

"Am I still trapped here?" Doyoung felt Yuta move away, taking his heat away with him, and he cursed at himself, for not noticing the tentativeness in Yuta's voice, and at Yuta, for taking the question the wrong way. "I like it more than I first did" he breathed, and if Yuta noticed the rush in his voice he said nothing. Doyoung silently breathed a sigh of relief when Yuta stood by him once more.

"And, what do you think about me?"

Doyoung looked at Yuta, and found him already staring. A thought crossed his mind and he felt the words climbing up his throat, threatening to spill from his lips, rip him at his seams, and he wished to swallow them, extinguish them until they were nothing more than a distant memory, a fleeting idea, unimportant, irrelevant. But with Yuta's silhouette outlined by the light coming from the ballroom, his front moonlit, light and shadows playing in the hard planes of his face, he felt himself suffocate under those words, unable to keep them in.

"Sometimes, it's hard to remember". 

Yuta inched closer, his movements barely perceptible.

"What is hard to remember?"

Doyoung looked up at him, eyes bright even in the darkness.

"The way there are flowers in your hair, but blood covering your hands" he whispered, a choked noise that somehow managed to cross the gap between them. A gap that was slowly closing.

"I don't think you should ever forget that" Yuta's eyes were fixated on Doyoung's mouth.

"Maybe I want to" the confession caught both of them by surprise, if Yuta's soft intake of breath was anything to go by.

Yuta's eyes then changed, a hungry glint in them. 

"Those are dangerous words to live by", the warning was clear in his voice. Warning, not threat. Never a threat, not towards him, as Doyoung had come to learn.

"I don't care". 

Yuta's hand came to cup Doyoung's face, gently, gingerly, before moving down his jaw, covering his neck, the barest hint of pressure in his fingertips, so faint Doyoung knew it was more of an invitation than anything else.

"Do you want me?"

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the cover of the night, maybe Doyoung had just reached his limit, but he was not hiding, not anymore. Not with Yuta's face so close to his, their lips just a breath away. He wrapped his fingers around Yuta's wrist, locking it in place.

“No," he answered. Something passed through Yuta's eyes.

"Are you lying to me?" And Doyoung smiled, Yuta's slender fingers around his throat, feeling Doyoung's heartbeat in his fingertips, how it gave out his lie and told all of his truths.

“Yes."

Yuta brought his face closer to Doyoung's, impossibly closer, for their lips still did not touch, no matter how much Doyoung yearned for it.

"How many times?"

"To you? Just twice.”

Yuta must have felt the truth in Doyoung's voice and smiled. It wasn't a beautiful smile, it was dark and twisted, full of sharp angles, and so very Yuta it took Doyoung's breath away.

"You fooled me, Doyoung" his voice was a whisper, a caress on Doyoung's skin. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Whatever you want,” his voice was broken, need dripping with every word he uttered, so obvious it made Yuta smile wider. Doyoung grunted, wanting to wipe the grin off his face, restless.

"Only if you do the same".

The words, whispered into his ear like it was some big, terrible secret, were enough to tear Doyoung's control to threads, enough to make him close the gaps between them, pushing Yuta until he was pressed against the opposite wall, until their mouths were slotted together, Doyoung's hands gripping Yuta's hair, Yuta digging his fingers in Doyoung's waist, bringing him closer. 

There was no space between them, only Doyoung's mouth on Yuta's, and Yuta's hot hands roaming Doyoung's body, making him shiver. Yuta smiled into the kiss when he made Doyoung whimper, and Doyoung then bit Yuta's lower lip, tugging on it until he heard him moan. He then licked it in a silent apology, even if Yuta didn't seem to mind, not with the way he was holding Doyoung's waist, hard enough to bruise.

It was easy, so terribly easy, to forget the warnings his brain yelled at him, to forget who he was and what he was doing there. It was easy to ignore it, ignore everything other than Yuta, and the way he felt under Doyoung's fingertips, how he shivered under Doyoung's touch. A part of Doyoung wished he was better, stronger, but those concerns were soon forgotten, left on the floor for him to face in the morning, when Yuta didn't take his every thought.

The castle was silent as they made their way back to their rooms. By some stroke of luck, they didn't run into anyone, even if Doyoung was sure they wouldn't have noticed them unless they had physically bumped into each other. For once, the universe seemed to be on both their sides.

Yuta's shirt was halfway open, Doyoung's somewhere on the floor, by the time the door closed behind them. Doyoung, fumbling with Yuta’s clothing, paused briefly, his fingers stilling on the other’s chest, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Yuta noticed too, gently made Doyoung look at him.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Doyoung.”

He shook his head, eyes averted, never taking his hands from Yuta, slowly running them up and down his chest.

“I want to. I just hope it won’t be something for you to regret.”

Yuta frowned, confused, and tilted his head. Doyoung then smiled, softly, and pressed his lips to Yuta’s collarbone, dragged them up his neck, all the way up to his lips, until he drowned any complaints he was about to voice, Yuta’s fingers tangling in Doyoung’s dark locks.

The bed didn’t make a sound as Yuta pushed Doyoung down on it, gently but firmly, and knelt on the bed beside him, beautiful smile on his lips as he stared down at Doyoung, silver lined by the Moon. Doyoung looked at him in awe, breathless, before tugging him down, reconnecting their lips, something like desperation coursing through his veins. 

It didn’t take long before they got lost in each other, a tangle of limbs and fingers, the moans they let out swallowed by the other, passionate hands and gentle kisses as they explored one another. 

Doyoung’s chest threatened to burst, eyes brimming with tears as he stared at Yuta, at the look of pure bliss on his face. He cupped Yuta’s face between his hands, brought him closer to kiss him, the tenderness of it enough to send him over the edge, Yuta following soon. 

He forced himself to commit the image to memory, Yuta’s soft, wonderful smile, so at odds with his usual demeanor, as he laid beside him, chest heaving, Doyoung’s arm serving as a pillow. He leant forward, as Yuta snuggled closer to him, and pressed his lips to the corner of Yuta’s lips, breathing in his scent. Yuta caught him by the neck as he retreated, brought him closer in for a real kiss, sweet and tender, before falling asleep, his head on Doyoung’s chest, and Doyoung’s fingers running through his hair until sleep, too, caught up with him.

***

The first rays of sunlight found Doyoung already awake, staring at Yuta’s sleeping form. His hair was splayed over the pillow, and with the peacefulness that had taken over him in his sleep, he appeared to be younger, all his worries gone. Doyoung sighed quietly to himself, wishing, not for the first time, that the morning would never end. How he wished they could stay in that moment, suspended in time, forever. But not even he was foolish enough to believe that.

Yuta stirred in his sleep, slowly waking up. His eyes, glazed over at first, focused on Doyoung, and he smiled, undiluted happiness shining there, that managed to take Doyoung’s breath away. Doyoung dipped down, brushed his lips against Yuta’s, the faintest of touches.

“Good morning,” he whispered, low enough to not disturb him. Yuta mumbled something back, the words indecipherable, and Doyoung smiled widely at that. “Water?”

At Yuta’s sleepy nod, Doyoung leant forward and grabbed the glass he had placed there during the night, after he had woken up for the second time. Ignoring the twinge of pain that shot through his hand, from where it was pressed beneath the pillow and Yuta’s head, he stretched his body and offered the glass to Yuta. He gingerly took it, drinking all its content, before giving it back to Doyoung.

“I should probably get up,” Yuta yawned, his words slurred together as he tossed around to lay on his chest. Doyoung pushed his hair away from his eyes, caressing his skin with feather-like touches.

“It’s still early in the morning, Yuta,” he replied with a small smile. “Go back to sleep, you have plenty of time.”

Yuta opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out of it. The sudden pressure of Doyoung’s hand on his neck, softly massaging it, and the residual sleepiness were enough to lull him back to sleep, despite his best attempts to stay awake.

***

It was the loud crash of the door against the walls that jolted Yuta awake. He was disoriented, at first, the pounding in his head making it hard to think and concentrate on anything other than the pain itself. He could hear voices shouting at each other, heavy footsteps mixed in the commotion, but he couldn't make out what was going on, his mind going too slow to properly process his surroundings.

He was only vaguely aware of the bed beneath him, the slight pang of iron in the air, and the heaviness of his limbs, which felt as if they were made out of stone. A part of him wanted to yell at them until they left, just so that he could go back to sleep. The other one, the one that found it hard to really lower his defences anywhere in the castle, was alarmed by the fact that he hadn't woken up the moment someone had crossed the threshold. 

Groaning, Yuta tried to fight the remnants of sleep that still clung to him like vines, and he caught sight of Doyoung, staring at him. Something in the way Doyoung held himself, standing still by the side of the bed, arms circling his own body, set off the alarms in Yuta's muddled brain.

Yuta dragged himself until he was sat on the bed, the motion making the room spin around him. The light and movement seemed to worsen his headache, the dizziness almost enough to make him fall back on the bed.

"Doyoung, what...?" He started, his words slurred together.

Whatever he was trying to say got lost when the door that lead to his room opened wide, revealing a stream of guards pouring in. Right after them, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, walked Joonho Jung. 

There was something in him, in the curve of his lips, the glint in his eyes, that was enough to freeze Yuta's blood in his veins. He had known Joonho long enough, both as a friend to his son, and as his king, to know what it meant. He had known him long enough to respect his mind, fear his ruthlessness, learn how to identify the signs of his plotting. If him walking into Yuta's own rooms as if he didn't have a care in the world wasn't indicative enough, then the sight of members of the Council, strolling in behind him, was.

Yuta tried to stand, rise from the bed to regain some kind of composure, whatever authority he could muster, but even if the fog that clouded his mind had cleared a bit since Joonho had walked in, his body was still weak, his arms giving out beneath him.

"Didn't I tell you so?" Joonho threatened to burst in satisfaction, his delighted tone impossible to hide. "Our king has abandoned us," he continued, turning to smile, sweet, so sweet, at the Council members. He hadn't even bothered to pretend contriteness, his smile so wide it almost split his face in two.

The rest of the noblemen appeared torn, some barely containing their glee, others pale as they stared at Yuta, their lips pressed into a thin line.

"This is a disgrace, you must all agree with me on that!" One of them said. _Lord Lee_ , his brain supplied, slower than it should be. One of Joonho's most loyal supporters, although one that had never dared speak before. "It is no wonder the king suddenly decided to side with the humans. He is no longer concerned with our wellbeing, but rather with theirs!”

“King Yuta has always done what he has considered best for our people,” another lord contradicted him, his words final. Still, Yuta could see the doubt seeping into the other’s minds, their resolve weakening, crumbling to dust right in front of his eyes. Again, he tried to stand, but a new wave of dizziness invaded him, and he could barely sit straight, fighting the nausea that overwhelmed him.

“Or that’s what he wanted you to believe,” Joonho replied, the smile never leaving his face. “Look at him, bedding one of them!” Doyoung squirmed in the periphery of his vision, but Yuta was too tired to even turn his head and look at him.

“The king’s desire for peace with the humans started long before the human came into our castle, Joonho,” lord Moon, Taeil’s uncle, replied.

“And yet, his lover is the very same human who came here and attempted to murder him. It is no wonder he was allowed to live,” Joonho turned around to face the rest of them, hands behind his back. “But I understand your concerns, I myself found it hard to believe. Sadly, the evidence that has been presented is irrefutable,” Joonho looked at the noblemen one by one, before returning his eyes to Yuta, barely disguised glee in his voice. “My fellow council members, in the best of cases, our king has grown soft. In the worst, he’s a traitor, or a tyrant, and must be punished as such.” 

“Your accusations are severe, Joonho,” lord Oh interjected. He rarely seemed to say anything during the trials, keeping to himself as he let the others discuss, but his expression was grave then. He briefly looked at Yuta, before returning his eyes to Joonho. “You know the law: you must surely have proof of what you’re saying, and if you were plotting against the Crown, you would be punished accordingly.”

“I think you will find my evidence sufficiently condemning, lord Oh. After all, it was provided to us by someone who even lived here.”

Some other time, it might have been comical, the way everyone’s attention turned to the same thing, their mouths hanging in surprise. Yuta, however, froze, his fingers digging into the blankets below him. He slowly turned his head to look at Doyoung. Doyoung, who hadn’t moved, hadn’t uttered a word ever since Joonho had walked into the room. Doyoung, who Yuta had foolishly thought had begun to understand him, to see him as something other than an enemy.

His head throbbed, brain scrambling to piece everything together, and then it dawned on him. Yuta's eyes widened at the realization, his gaze shifting from Doyoung to the water that hadn’t been there during the night, that he had taken without a second thought because he had let himself relax. The bottle still sat on the bedside table, still full save for a single glass of water. The aching of his head was nothing compared to the feeling of betrayal that made his stomach twist in revolt, the pain unbearable in its unexpectedness. 

Had he been able to move, he would have shaken Doyoung, would have demanded an explanation. There was nothing he could think of that could explain such a reaction but maybe he had underestimated the faerie blood that ran through Doyoung's veins, the cruelty that distinguished them. But he was too weak, his own body failing him, and he could do nothing but stare, furious and disappointed, feeling like the fool he had wished not to be, as Doyoung kept his head resolutely down, refusing to meet Yuta's eyes.

Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, Joonho moved his hand to procure a piece of paper from inside his jacket, and Yuta was forced to tear his eyes away from Doyoung. For a moment, he wasn't entirely sure of what he was watching, but when he did, he wished he was able to turn back time, erase that entire morning, but he couldn't. Not even he, for all he could do, was capable of performing such things.

_It's over_ , Yuta thought. Joonho's fingers were closed around a sheet of paper, and while the content couldn't be read, it wasn't necessary, not with Yuta's personal seal stamped at the end. There was only one seal, and Yuta himself kept it under close quarters: stealing, or even fabricating it, would be hard, but not impossible. It could be a fake one, it _was_ a fake one, but Yuta knew Joonho, knew the lengths he would resort to: he would only ever do something like that if he was confident in his chances of success. Whatever it was he was holding, it was Yuta's demise.

"However, this is no matter to be discussed here, away from the Court. The matters of the king are matters of state, and they shall be addressed with the importance they have," Yuta took a deep breath, bracing for the words to come. "I, Joonho Jung, accuse the king of treason, and demand him to be questioned in a trial."

Joonho waited to see whether anyone would question him. It was pointless, Yuta knew. Half of the Council hated him for what he tried to do and sided with Joonho. The other half was doubtful, as aware of Joonho's ways as Yuta was, and would not risk ignoring something as severe as what the lord was stating. 

At the complete silence that followed his words, Joonho's eyes shone with dark glee. With a flick of his wrist, two guards marched forward, grabbing Yuta by his arms, and dragged him out of bed. Their grip on him was iron, the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor, as the room began to spin once more. 

Joonho, seemingly satisfied with the state Yuta was in, left the room after the rest of the Council, motioning for the guards to follow him. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuta saw another pair of guards surround Doyoung, though they kept their arms to themselves. 

Yuta didn't have much time to collect his breath, and could only wish the spinning would stop on its own when they started walking. Even lifting his feet long enough to take a step forward was a tremendous effort, draining him even more. It was the guards doing the most work, practically dragging him down the corridor and trying to keep him from falling.

After a particularly harsh stumble, the guard on his left breathe out an apology, and Yuta turned his eyes at him. It was then that realized with a jolt who they were, when he found himself looking at his own guards. Both of them, Xiaojun and Kunhang, looked apologetically at him, but Yuta was too confused, too surprised and betrayed, to do anything but stare at them in bewilderment. 

Soon enough, every thought about his guards left his mind, for they reached the doors that lead to the throne room.

Yuta took a deep breath, mustering all the strength he could gather, and went in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Shit escalated quickly...
> 
> [The playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1ANtvBWKGoRGvyQc0Zjkxt?si=cLCf0hwzS9eYGLabIePtjQ)


	4. Chapter 4

Joonho had come prepared, it seemed. The throne room was full, the mass of people a living being of its own, one that roared and whispered as it observed them, like a predator stalking its prey, waiting for the moment to strike.

Doyoung had never felt as vulnerable and weak as he had felt squished between two guards, as they pushed the courtiers out of the way. He had tried to ignore the staring and poking and whispering around them, the insidious smiles and pitying glances, but it was hard, when it was all he could listen and hear and touch and see. He had kept his eyes trained on Yuta's back, as his hunched form was half-dragged by his own guards, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Standing in front of the throne, surrounded by those that had come to watch Yuta’s demise, Doyoung had never felt so small, so utterly unimportant. He had been in that same room more times that he could count and yet, somehow, that one seemed the worst of all. Maybe it was because, for the first time since he had set his feet on the palace, Yuta wouldn't be sat on his throne, but rather kneeling on the floor, about to be stripped of his crown and kingdom, and it had been Doyoung that had put him there. His stomach churned at the thought, and he had to close his eyes to banish the image that had come with it.

There were familiar faces among the masses, but it brought him no relief, their dreadful expressions a testament to the gravity of the situation. Jungwoo and Ten looked like they were shy of jumping in and try to stop everything, only Taeil keeping them in place. Sunmi was staring right at him, her face drained of colour, stark comparison to the deep blue of her gown. Jaehyun stood by Sunmi's side, looking sick to his stomach, his eyes jumping from his father to Yuta and back to his father. Doyoung didn’t need to be able to read minds to know just how much Jaehyun wished Doyoung had followed his advice, fled the castle when there had still been time. It was too late then.

The Council finally sat down in a semicircle around them, grim faces directed at their king. Joonho stood beside him, tall and proud, with Doyoung a little behind them. Sunmi then took a step forward, her hands shaking almost imperceptibly.

"The faerie king by the name of Yuta Nakamoto is standing here under the charges of treason, as accused by Joonho Jung, head of his house. Due to the nature of the charges, both sides will be heard by the Council, and the High Priestess, who will decide whether the claims are true or not. If found guilty, the king shall no longer be so. The punishment, for whichever part, shall be decided by the Council members."

Sunmi stepped aside, giving Yuta one last look, full of sorrow and concern. The head of the Council, a slim man that Doyoung recognized as the one that had defended Yuta back in his rooms, stood up.

“Joonho Jung, as the one accusing the king of these crimes, you shall present whatever evidence you’ve collected and the witnesses needed to support your claims, so as to convince this Council of the veracity of these accusations.”

As the lord sat back down, Joonho nodded and smiled, teeth glistening under the soft light.

“Thank you, lord Moon. Before we start, I just want to say something: our loyalty, the loyalty of the noble houses, is to the kingdom, not the king. Sometimes, it is easy to forget that, forget our duties, and what they entitle. I stand here and ask you to remember them. I ask you to listen to what I'm about to present you with, and not let yourselves be blinded by a crown and a title. Our king has forsaken us: let it not go unpunished.”

He had barely started, but Joonho had already captured his audience's attention, eyes watching his every move, drinking up his words. There was a low murmur among the rows, background noise that was slowly but surely growing. Lord Moon stirred in his seat, and frowned.

“It is lovely of you to remind us of our duties, lord Jung but please, do get started.”

“Of course, lord Moon, excuse me,” Joonho bowed his head before he continued. “When I first heard of the king's plans to sign a treaty with the human kingdoms, I thought for sure it had to be some kind of misunderstanding: it just simply couldn't be possible for our own king, a seasoned warrior for that matter, to betray us like that, going as far as to agree to a truce with the humans. Sadly, it was true. Still, the king must have known what he was doing, I thought. Surely he knew what was best for our people, would act in consequence, even if I couldn't understand his reasoning," he let his eyes roam around the faces of the members of the Council, the people standing behind them. "At least, that's what I told myself until I heard of his relationship with the human; everything made much more sense once I learnt they were lovers."

His words had the desired effect, creating a sudden uproar, deafening in its violence. It took Lord Moon to shout over them for the noise to tone down, bringing back the silence.

"Lord Jung, please go directly to what interests us," he warned, his voice betraying his impatience.

"This is important, lord Moon. It is thanks to the human itself that I have the documents. It is thanks to the human that I can prove our king's true intentions, how he has grown soft towards the humans, how he even wants to grant the humans power over us."

Doyoung was forcefully brought forward, pushed between his shoulder blades. He stumbled to stand besides Joonho, and he averted his face, as if trying to shield himself from view. Joonho motioned for one of his men to give him a stack of papers, all stamped with the royal seal.

“These are letters, all found in the king’s personal chambers. They are signed by the Crown, and in them, our king not only discusses the sign of the treaty with the human kings, but also how he would give them lands that are rightfully ours. He promises to grant their king power over us, _punish_ us if he thinks it necessary. He talks of an alliance that would only benefit them, going so far so as to forbidding us from using our magic, under penalty of death,” Joonho’s voice was steadily rising in volume, until he was almost shouting, exalting everyone around him. “He talks of a Council were the human’s will have a place, pushing us away,” Joonho paused, his eyes almost glowing, fury igniting them. “He promises this will last forever, because he intends to strip us from our powers, proclaim himself the absolute power.”

The reaction was immediate, so virulent it took the guards in the room to physically stop the mass of nobles from advancing, to ensure they wouldn’t hurt Yuta. There were shouts against him, voices filled with hatred cursing him, wishing for him to be deposed, killed. There were some that stood by him, still believing in his innocence, but those were few, and they were becoming scarcer as time passed.

It was difficult to see who shouted what, each one of them sheltered by the overlapping voices. It was so violent Doyoung feared the next time they tried to push the guards aside and break free, they would succeed, and they would do everything they could to reach Yuta, not caring who stood in their way, just ripping apart whatever they encountered, friend or foe alike. 

Doyoung stared at the king’s kneeling form, so weak he could barely move: he was slightly shaking, his eyes were closed, his breath erratic. He didn’t appear to have heard what Joonho had said, much less to be in any shape to defend himself from it.

Once the guards had deemed the situation to be controlled, they stepped back to their previous positions, and Joonho then handed over the documents to the Council member closest to him. Slowly, the papers were passed from one to another. Doyoung stood there as, one by one, their expressions darkened, lips pressed into a tight line, whatever it was written in them persuading enough to sow doubt between them.

“The human was apprehended when he tried to kill the king, why would he try to kill his lover?”

Joonho shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I won't pretend to understand the human's mind, but we all know how humans are. Who knows, maybe the king did something that wasn't entirely to the human's liking and he reacted badly. I think there are more pressing matters than that this particular one, however."

"And what motive would the human have to help you uncover his lover's plans, Joonho?" The question some of the noblemen bob their heads in agreement.

Joonho shrugged, even if he couldn’t totally hide his displeasure at the tone with which he had been addressed. "Humans are volatile and greedy, everyone knows it, lady Kim. What satisfied them one day might not be enough the next. Whatever our king promised him might not have been enough," his eyes glimmered as he spoke.

"The human could be lying, Lord Jung," said lady Choi, who looked bored, idly playing with a loose thread from the hem of her dress. Even so, her eyes never wandered off, carefully listening to what was being said.

"It occurred to me it might be the case, my lady," Joonho dipped his head in acknowledgement, "but the High Priestess assured as he was not able to lie, and he specifically told us everything that I just said. Besides, if you believe there's no reason for him to betray his lover, there's even less reason for him to lie, when it wouldn't benefit him in any way. If anything, it would cost him his life."

"And what reason would the human have to help you uncover his lover's plans, Joonho?" The question some of the noblemen bob their heads in agreement.

Joonho shrugged, even if he couldn’t totally hide his displeasure at the tone with which he had been addressed. "Humans are volatile and greedy, everyone knows it, lady Kim. What satisfied them one day might not be enough the next. Whatever our king promised him might not have been enough," his eyes glimmered as he spoke.

"You said 'us', lord Jung. Who are you referring to?" Another lord asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, but of course, lord Han, I'm talking about my son and me," his thin lips stretched into a cunning smile, savouring the surprise in their faces. "After all, it was him the one who told the human where he could find these documents. Come here, son, don't be so shy," he beckoned him forward with a flick of his wrist, his grin growing as everyone turned to look at them.

Gradually, a path was cleared to where Joonho was standing, leaving Jaehyun unprotected from the staring, looking sickly pale under all the attention.

Yuta slowly lifted his head, as if it were too heavy to move. As if it were too hard to believe.

If Doyoung had thought he had seen pain in Yuta's eyes when he had realized his treason back in his chambers, it was nothing compared to the sheer agony in them when Jaehyun took the first step towards his father. The heartbreak and sadness in them were almost palpable, a physical entity standing by their sides. Jaehyun didn't meet Yuta's eyes.

"And why would you do that, Jaehyun? Why would you do something that might have broken Yuta's trust?" Lady Kim's voice was soft, even if her words caused Jaehyun to flinch.

"My loyalty is to my kingdom and family, my lady. I did what I had to do in their best interests, even if it pained me," he replied. It looked like it pained him still, if the pallor of his skin was anything to go by.

"And so you told the human where he could find these documents?" She pressed.

"And so I told Doyoung where he could find those documents. I didn't want to. I wished I didn't have to, but it wasn't really a choice, I'm afraid. I did what was necessary."

"That he did," Joonho agreed, snaking an arm around Jaehyun's shoulders, and bringing him closer. It made Jaehyun winced briefly, but no one paid it much attention. "It was him who told me about the king's conversations with the humans, those that went beyond the treaty." Jaehyun attempted a weak smile at those words, even if his face contorted into a grimace.

Silence fell once more upon them. The members of the Council looked at each other as the last ones finished reading the documents.

"The charges of which you've accused the king are extremely serious, and we must proceed with caution but, as it is, I think we all agree the evidence is quite... overwhelming," the last word came out pained, but lord Moon's expression didn't falter. He waited a minute to see if anyone would complain. When no one spoke, he continued. "However, no matter how incriminating it may seem, before we do anything drastic with this information, we need to make sure it can be trusted. I'm sure you understand it," he continued, looking at both Jaehyun and Joonho. The latter nodded dutifully.

"Of course I understand, lord Moon, I expected nothing less of the Council."

"Then, if everyone agrees to it, I suggest the High Priestess—“

"I beg your pardon, my lord," Joonho interrupted him as he spoke. Lord Moon stared at him bewildered, too surprised to protest. "While I agree the High Priestess is the best seer we have, I also think we should remember she's very protective of the king, almost mother like."

"Are you suggesting she would not do her job, Lord Jung?" There was a dangerous edge in lord Moon's voice, one that seemed to be shared by the whole Council, and that didn't go unnoticed by the nobleman.

"Of course not, but I do believe she might... Leave out some details, if only to alleviate the king's punishments. I understand the impulse, I am a parent myself but this is too delicate for us to allow something like that to happen."

"What do you suggest we do, then?"

"Have someone else examine the evidence for her, just this one time. I wouldn't dare question the High Priestess ability or dedication to our country, but I think the situation demands it."

"We will consider your suggestion, lord Jung, but now, it's time we finally hear what the accused has to say."

Expectant heads turned towards Yuta, but the king could barely raise himself onto his arms, much less stand up. It was painful to watch, how Yuta struggled to even sit. Doyoung couldn't stand it anymore after a couple of minutes and rushed to his side, helping him rise. Yuta recoiled from his touch as if he had been burnt by it, but even then he couldn't do anything but accept his help, as Doyoung practically manhandled him into a sitting position.

"I don't think the king is fit to answer any type of questions, not in the state he is right now."

As he returned to his place, Doyoung turned to his head to look at Ten, who had made his way to the front. Joonho sneered at him.

"The law is the law, Ten," he spat out his name like it was some kind of disease. "The king must be brought to answer the charges as soon as the trial starts, regardless of the state any of us are in."

"He can't even stand!" Ten shouted, his eyes burning with anger.

"And what if he could and used that time to run? What then?" Joonho hissed. "The law is the law, Ten. And if you wish to go against it, you will be punished accordingly."

"Ten, let it be," Jaehyun whispered, extending a hand towards him. Ten scrambled to get away from him.

"Don't you dare touch me," he replied through gritted teeth, the threat obvious. Jaehyun stopped just shy of touching him, and his face fell for a brief moment before he was able to mask his pain. Slowly, he returned to his father's side.

"My king," lord Moon called to him, after Ten had retreated back into the mass of people. "Yuta," he tried again. Yuta lifted his head, the movement pained. "Did you understand the charges against you?" Yuta bobbed his head slightly. "Is this yours?" He raised the stack of documents. Yuta nodded, before shaking his head. "You are going to have to speak if you want us to understand, my king."

"Those documents are mine but... I didn't write them," he replied. His words slurred together, and Doyoung strained to understand what he said.

"We don't understand, Yuta," lady Kim softly interjected. "Were you talking to the human king?" Yuta nodded again. "Did you made them promises?"

"Y-yes but it's a lie," he whispered. The members of the Council looked at each other, concerned.

"What's a lie, Yuta?"

"This is clearly pointless!" Joonho replied, his supporters agreeing with him. "He admitted those letters are his, so he's admitted to the crimes, what else do you need? We have to punish him for what he has done.”

Some of the nobles were clearly hesitant to do so, but they were outnumbered, and so there was little they could do. Joonho seemed to glow with every chin that dipped, every member that consented to it, until even the most steadfast defender of Yuta nodded, head hanging low in defeat.

"Seeing the evidence that has been presented to us, this Council rules that the charges against the king hold their ground," lord Moon's eyes were sad, even if his voice didn't waver. "Because of that, and until the veracity of these documents is proven, this Council finds him no longer fit to be king. The Council shall rule in his stead while we come to a conclusion and so the king shall await the results and our final decision in prison. Should he be found guilty, due to the nature of his crimes against this kingdom will be punished with death, and the Council will name a new king."

The reaction didn't take long, a raucous amalgam of shouts of victory and cries of indignation, so loud it made the walls tremble. Yuta looked completely defeated, the little energy he had left leaving his body as he lay boneless on the floor. Jaehyun looked on the verge of vomiting, sweating profusely, while Sunmi couldn't take her eyes of Yuta, and Jungwoo's hand was gripping his sword's pommel, so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Joonho's smile was blinding as he turned to look at Yuta, revelling in the state he was in. He looked at Doyoung, and then at his guards.

"Seize him," was the order. "He is no longer king," he spat out. There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes, his smile dark and terrible. It promised pain, and death, directed at both Doyoung and Yuta.

His guards stepped forward to drag Yuta to his feet. Yuta let them do it: he was too weak to resist, unable to even keep his head up.

"Stop."

Joonho's smile froze in his face, his eyes turning venomous. The nobility assembled in the room turned their faces to look at Doyoung, the weight of their combined stares almost enough to make him cower, but he gritted his teeth and resisted the impulse. It was time, the Seer had said, and she had been right.

"You have no power here, human," Joonho's voice was sweet, as if to mask the threat underlying his words.

"I am afraid you're wrong, Lord Jung. I am the king," he said, his voice just as sweet. Doyoung couldn't keep the smile from his face as he watched the confusion and horror battling in the faces around him.

"You can't be the king, you're just a human! And a prisoner for that matter!"

The smile on Doyoung's face grew bigger, as lord Jung slowly turned red. The rest of the noblemen squirmed nervously, their eyes jumping from Doyoung to Yuta to Joonho, and back to Doyoung.

"Everything he is, I became. He might no longer be king, but I still am," Doyoung replied. Slowly, he raised his left hand for everyone to see, high enough that no one would miss the red gash splitting his palm in two.

If his words hadn’t been enough, then the sight of the mark in his hand was. The throne room fell silent as everyone took in its implications. For a moment, a glorious moment, no one said anything, words not enough to express their commotion. Then, everything came crashing down.

One of the noblemen, lord Han, shot forward and grabbed Yuta’s hand. His face paled as he saw the twin gash on Yuta’s right palm. After a brief hesitation, he raised the deposed king’s hand for everyone to see.

“We are bound together which, in your eyes, makes me king as well,” Doyoung purred.

“You’re lying,” a lord hissed.

“He is not,” Sunmi, silent until that moment, stepped forward. “I witnessed their union, lord Jung," she faced Doyoung, her eyes burning with hope. "He is our king.”

“If you are bound together, then you are in this together, king,” Joonho spat out, through gritted teeth. “You are not fit for ruling, as he wasn’t.”

"But you said it yourself, lord Jung: I helped you get the king to where he is right now, I gave you those documents, didn't I?" Doyoung let his smile grow, mimicking the one he had seen so many times in Yuta's face, wicked and full of dark promises. "And if I gave you the letters, if I helped you bring the king to justice because of his crimes, then I, just like your son, am only guilty of protecting this kingdom," Doyoung scanned the faces around him, saw the doubt slowly growing in their hearts. "I, both as the king and your witness, deserve to be heard as well, don't I?"

The Council looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Doyoung waited patiently. 

"This is highly uncommon, my king," lord Moon replied, after some hesitation. "It is not something that has happened before, but I think we can all agree we ought to allow you to speak."

Doyoung nodded, not willing to give the rest of them even a minute to reconsider.

"While lord Jung has spoken truthfully, not all that he has said was true," he started, looking at the Council members straight in the eyes, one by one. "I did give him the documents, but not because I was mad at the king. I did so because I was forced to, because lord Jung himself made me do so."

"That's ridiculous!" Doyoung ignored the indignant protest.

"If I am here, is because I was taken from my home, and forced to come here and try to kill the king. When that didn't work, I was used to spy on him, and report back to lord Jung."

"That's a lie: you've never once reported back to me," Joonho replied, a glint in his eye.

"You're right, I've never once reported back to you. Not directly, at least. But I have reported back to your son," all the heads turned to stare at Jaehyun, who was seemingly frozen in place. "He was the one you used to tell me what to do, to give me what you wanted me to give you. Jaehyun told me where to find the letters, told me to get them so that they could be modified until they contained what you needed, and then, after they were put back in place, I would give them to him again. You used Jaehyun to force me to what you couldn't do yourself."

"That's a nice little story you have told, but without any kind of evidence to support it, it's nothing more than just that, a story," Joonho snarled.

"I'm afraid that's true, my king," lady Kim agreed. "You are now accusing lord Jung of not only pressing false charges and planting false evidence, but also of betraying this kingdom and the Crown. Do you have any evidence to support your claims?"

Doyoung's lips curved into a bitter smile. "No, I don't."

"Then I don't see why we're humouring this nonsense. The human, king or not, should be punished for this too," Joonho interjected, having regained his confidence.

"I didn't say there wasn't any evidence, lord Jung. Just that I didn't have it."

"Then who does, my king?" Lady Boo asked, growing impatient.

"I do," and with those words, Doyoung smiled as he turned to his side.

There was a ripple of shock among the crowd, but none that could compare to the one reflected in Jonnho's face as he looked at his son. Jaehyun stood where he was, twisting his fingers, blanching under all the attention but he stood a little taller, a little more confident than he did before.

"I forced Doyoung to do everything. It is what I do, after all, the one thing that makes me valuable," he admitted, fleeting pain in his eyes. "My father knew I would have access to Doyoung, and asked me to do his bidding."

"How did you do such thing, Jaehyun? We were told the High Priestess had protected Doyoung's mind from being tampered with," one of the ladies asked, staring inquisitively at them both.

"She had but the commands were buried in his mind," Jaehyun answered, rubbing his neck. Next to him, Joonho looked at his son with murder in his eyes. "Sunmi made sure no one could interfere with his mind, but I had already done so, preparing him for when I needed him to obey me."

The Council collectively frowned at his words, looking perplexed by them. Doyoung stood at a side, and let it unravel.

"You were there," Sunmi looked straight at Jaehyun, who couldn't hold her gaze. "You were there the night he was taken. You were the one who forced him to kill the king, and the one who wiped and blocked his memories."

Jaehyun swallowed, and nodded. "It's true, I was there that night.”

"Why would you even do that, Jaehyun?" Jungwoo and Taeil tried to hold him back, but Ten shook them off, staring at Jaehyun with fire in his eyes.

"I was threatened to do so. He threatened to hurt Jaemin if I didn't comply," Jaehyun replied, looking pained as the words left his mouth.

"I'd never hurt my son," Joonho growled. Jaehyun bitterly shook his head.

"You would never hurt your son but you wouldn't be above ordering someone else to do so. Besides, you've always thought Jaemin wasn't yours," Jaehyun was almost shaking, enraged. "You threatened to hurt my little brother, as you threatened to hurt my mother and even Sicheng. You knew what I wanted to do and threatened to kill them the moment we set foot outside the city and, after everything you've done, I believed you," he said between gritted teeth. "So I helped you to set Yuta up, even if it killed me, because as much as I love him, my family comes first, and you knew that. I helped you take Doyoung away, helped you threaten his family and tamper with his brain, even made him forget so that no one would know, but this is it, father," at that, Jaehyun turned to look at the Council. belling his shaky hands into fists. "My father lied, my lords and ladies. Everything Doyoung has said is so true, even if he can't prove it, but I can, and I will do everything in my power to do so, as well as accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate for my actions.”

"Thank you for your testimony, Jaehyun," lord Moon replied a beat too late, still not recovered from the revelations. Jaehyun nodded dutifully and stepped back, standing beside Yuta but not quite. He looked like he wanted to do something, reach down and touch his friend, but he stayed where he was, his hands deep in his pockets. "We still have to check everything that has been said today but, in the light of what we've just heard, I think it's appropriate we modify our previous ruling," everyone nodded at once. Some did so begrudgingly, but nodded nonetheless. "Due to these new findings, this Council finds lord Joonho Jung to be guilty of treason and conspiracy against the Crown, as well as guilty of fabricating evidence to incriminate the king. Therefore, and according to the law, as these crimes were against the king, the king himself shall be the one to decide his punishment, as well as his son's, guilty of complicity in these charges.”

The guards moved the seize them, Jaehyun with a resigned expression in his face, his father looking absolutely furious at it.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, I'm going to take the king back to his chambers so he can rest. I'm sure he will have a great interest in hearing what they have to say," Doyoung replied, kneeling down to help Yuta up. He stopped when he saw the Council hadn't raised from their seats. "What's wrong?"

"As king, I'm afraid it is you who has to pass on the ruling.”

Doyoung shook his head, violently. "Yuta is the king, and the one affected by their actions: it is his who has to decide what to do."

"He is not king, not right now," lady Choi added tactfully, as if trying to not anger Doyoung any further.

"I don't care if he's not king right now, he is the king, and once you've restored his position, it will be him the one to pass judgement," lady Choi opened his mouth to reply, but Doyoung glared at him, and he seemed to think better of it. "I am the king, and he should be too. I don't care about the law, and you shouldn't either, not when he's done nothing wrong, not when all he's ever wanted is to do what's best for all of us. So, you will do as I say. This trial will be put on hold until Yuta is able to make a decision. Until then, he will be resting."

That said, Doyoung turned his back to the Council, not waiting to see whether they agreed or not. It didn't take long before the shuffling and scraping of chairs against the tiles were heard, and slowly, the room started to vacate, though most of them stayed where they were, morbid curiosity keeping them rooted to the floor. Doyoung sighed and tried to block them out, focusing on Yuta.

"Let's get you out of here, don't you think?" He whispered, pushing Yuta's sweaty bangs out of his eyes. 

Yuta didn't reply, didn't even look like he had heard him, too feeble to do anything but sit down, his eyes unfocused. He didn't put up any kind of resistance when Doyoung hooked his left arm over his shoulders and stood up, practically carrying Yuta. He almost stumbled and fell back to the floor, had it not been for Jungwoo, who, rushing to Yuta's right side, mimicked Doyoung's position.

Jaehyun and Joonho were nowhere to be seen as Doyoung and Jungwoo painfully carried Yuta away. Walking in front of them were Ten and Taeil, clearing them a path among the crowd, elbowing and pushing the nobility out of their way. They reminded Doyoung of a flock of vultures, waiting for the right moment to dive down and feast on the dead. He snarled at them as he walked past them, taking note of those who seemed particularly rejoiced at the sight of Yuta, limp body being carried by Jungwoo and Doyoung himself. Walking closely behind them, was Sunmi, her presence alone making sure no one would attempt to follow them, and stalling the whispers until they were far enough they wouldn't reach their ears.

They made it back to Yuta's rooms without further complications, and they were finally able to lay him down on his bed. Yuta's eyes were closed and he barely moved. For a moment, terrible and excruciating, Doyoung thought he had chosen a wrong dose, that Yuta's eyes would never open again. It wasn't until he saw Yuta's chest rise slowly that he let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him like a wave.

"Leave us, please," Sunmi's voice brought him back to Earth. "I will take care of him, but I need you to leave," she insisted when no one showed any real intention of leaving.

She walked to the door and held it open, staring impatiently at them. One by one, they started to move, Taeil first, then Jungwoo. Only Ten stubbornly remained where he was.

"Ten? Please leave, I swear he will be taken care of," Sunmi's voice was soft. Ten averted his eyes to look at Doyoung.

"And what about him? Will he leave too?"

Taeil and Jungwoo stopped in their tracks and waited for Sunmi to reply. For once, she seemed hesitant, as if wary of Ten's reaction.

"I need Doyoung to be here, but I assure you," she rushed to add when the fire in Ten's eyes grew, "that he will not harm Yuta."

"I don't trust him, Sunmi. Not after everything that has happened today," Ten confessed. His eyes didn't once leave Doyoung, his hands twitching as if it was all he could to not hit the human then and there. It was hard to mask the near heartbreak in his eyes.

"You don't have to, Ten. Trust me. You know I would never let him here if he was a threat to Yuta," Sunmi implored. At first, by the way Ten stubbornly looked at him, Doyoung thought Ten would refuse to leave, but then Ten dipped his chin, almost imperceptibly.

"If you hurt him again, there will be no tricks, nothing, that will stop me from killing you, human," Ten's voice was icy, so devoid of emotion that Doyoung didn't doubt, not for one moment, that Ten would fulfill his promise.

The door closed behind them, and Doyoung sagged in relief. He buried his face in his hands and tried to control the shaking of his limbs.

"Doyoung, how are you feeling?" Sunmi's soft voice made him lift his head. He attempted a smile, albeit weak.

"Exhausted, but at least I'm alive so I guess I can't complain," Sunmi worried stare made him sigh. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me. It's Yuta you should focus on. Do you think he will recover?"

"The drug should wear off in a couple of hours. He will probably have a headache and should stay in bed until he's fully recovered, but he will survive." 

Doyoung nodded, biting his bottom lip. "Do you think he will forgive me?" His words were a whisper, but they reached Sunmi, who turned to look at Doyoung, sympathy shining in her eyes.

"I think so, Yuta understands making hard choices, has had to make many. I don't think he'll hold it over you for long."

"It could be worse, I guess," he replied, tried to conjure some resemblance of a smile.

Sunmi tore her eyes away from him as she sat beside Yuta, who lay utterly still on his bed, brushing his hair from his face. Doyoung copied her position her on the other side, the bed dipping under their combined weight.

"Do you think what we've done will be enough to stop them?"

Sunmi shrugged. "They will never stop, there will always be someone vying for the crown, someone angry at him and willing to risk everything to depose him but I don't think Joonho will be attempting anything else soon, if not ever. And with Joonho gone, his supporters will lay low. I think we're safe for the time being," she must have read the worry written in Doyoung's face because she reached forward and grabbed his left hand, squeezing slightly. "We have gone through worse Doyoung. We will get over this."

Doyoung squeezed back, grateful. He wouldn't have been able to tell how long they stayed there, their hands intertwined, but it couldn't have been longer than half an hour. The position made him grow stiff and so he released Sunmi's hand, letting it fall down onto the bed to stretch his arms. He cast his eyes down to look at Yuta, only to find him already staring.

"Yuta!"

The king's eyes were unfocused as he looked at them both, Doyoung scrambling to help him rise into a sitting position, while Sunmi brought him a glass of water. She made him drink it all the way to the bottom, ignoring his weak protests.

“Sunmi? What happened?" Yuta's voice was hoarse, his words still slightly slurred together, but his eyes were slowly becoming clearer, the poison finally leaving his system. 

It wasn't hard to guess the moment in which he noticed Doyoung sitting beside him, his expression darkening considerably. Doyoung swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, but refused to look away.

"Maybe you should rest first, Yuta," Sunmi's suggestion was met with silence and a disparaging glare. Sunmi sighed. "What is it that you remember?"

Yuta grimaced and frowned. "I remember the ball," Sunmi nodded. "And then, I remember... Doyoung," Yuta looked straight at him as he spoke, and Doyoung could tell just when he remembered what had happened, before Yuta broke the eye contact, settling on Sunmi. If the latter noticed the exchange, she said nothing of it. "I remember talking to him, and coming back. Then I recall waking up, and Joonho walking in. After that, everything’s blurry."

"There was a trial," Sunmi slowly started. Her eyes never left his face, as if gauging his possible reaction. "Joonho accused you of treason and the Council decided it was best if you were deposed."

"Then Jaehyun stood up and contradicted his father's claims. His testimony was solid enough to convince the Council to imprison Joonho instead of you," Doyoung quietly added.

Yuta's eyes turned to him, before going back to Sunmi. Letting out a low grunt, he pressed the heels of his hands against his face and stayed perfectly still. Sunmi and Doyoung shared a perplexed and slightly worried look over his head.

After a couple of minutes, Yuta lowered his hands. He had the imprint of his palms in his face, the area slowly turning red.

"You poisoned me," he said, staring wide-eyed at Doyoung, "and you lied," he continued, his tone wavering somewhere between accusatory and awed. "You lied so many times, but you straight up told them it was true Doyoung and I were bound together and that did not happen, I know it didn't."

His words made Sunmi look down guiltily, and Doyoung could do nothing but nod, and hope Yuta would be willing to hear his side of the story before sending him back to a cell. 

"I did lie," she admitted. There was no regret in her voice, no shame in her face. "I'm sorry I did so, but there was no other choice."

"How did you do it, Sunmi? How did you fool not just the Council, but a room full of nobles, and even myself? What didn't I see?" Yuta's voice was suddenly so tired, as if the crown was finally wearing him down, too heavy for him to carry.

"Do you remember what I told you, that day back when Doyoung arrived, about where my loyalties?" Yuta nodded, barely a dip of his chin. "I told you I would never do anything to harm you, and I told you I was loyal to my kin and those I love. Well, then, Yuta, I think its time you meet my son," she continued, her hand hovering over Doyoung's knee, before setting softly on top of it.

To say Yuta was surprised by Sunmi's words would be an understatement. For a minute, his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, not a sound coming out of it.

"Your son? How?"

"Do you remember when you asked us to go to the human kingdoms, to try and understand how they lived and thought, felt about us?" She didn't say anything else, but she didn't have to either, Yuta wordlessly understanding what she wasn't saying.

"And then you had to come back," he whispered.

"And then I had to come back."

"You never said anything."

"There wasn't much to be said," she replied, sadly. "I doubted halfbreeds would be accepted here, especially given the state this kingdom was in, and I thought my children would be safer if I never said a word. Joonho finding Doyoung and bringing him to kill you was a cruel twist of fate," she laughed bitterly at it.

"Still, how did you lie to the Council, to me, to all of us?"

"I never lied to you," she denied. Yuta frowned.

"You told me Doyoung couldn't lie, and that clearly wasn't the case."

"I never said he couldn't lie, I just said Sooyoung thought so," she clarified. "She was wrong about it, but she didn't know at the time. Don't look at me like that, Yuta: lying is the only thing humans can do that we can't. I wasn't going to let my child come here without any means to protect himself," she chastised as she saw Yuta's expression. "And, as to how I lied to the Council: I said I had witnessed your binding ceremony, but no one ever asked whether it had already taken place, nor if it had been a vision or not."

Yuta leaned back onto his pillows, closing his eyes briefly.

"And the poison?"

"Jaehyun forced me to do so," Doyoung quietly replied. "It was Joonho's plan to drug you so you wouldn't hear them come, and you'd be too weak and confused to defend yourself. I didn't want to do it, but his orders were extremely specific: I had to get you to ingest the drug," he paused for a moment, doubting. "From the beginning, Joonho used Jaehyun to compel me into stealing your things and bringing them to him as evidence. He tried to get me to kill you and then frame you when that failed."

"So everything you've done when you've been here... It was orchestrated by them both. You were constantly lying to him," Yuta's face had started to look greenish, the cogs in his brain turning.

Doyoung firmly shook his head, gripping the sheets beneath him. "Jaehyun only made me do the things his father ordered, and then he would wipe my memory clean to make sure I would never remember what had happened and that no one would ever be able to find out through me. I was pretty much myself the rest of the time," Doyoung murmured, sneaking a glance at Yuta. His words seemed to relieve him of those feelings, colour coming back to his cheeks, but he didn't appear to be completely convinced by them.

"Joonho threatened to hurt and even kill Jaehyun's mother, Jaemin and Sicheng," Sunmi continued, when it was obvious Doyoung didn't intend on saying anything else. "That's why he betrayed you and helped his father with his plan. He wouldn't have done anything otherwise. He came to me as soon as he could, to warn me. He wanted me to get Doyoung out."

"And why didn't you?"

"You know why," she replied, her voice gentle. "If Doyoung had gone missing, the treaty would have been in jeopardy, again. And he was the only one that could lie among us; he needed to stay for this to work."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"You hate deceit, Yuta," she said, sadness coating her words. "You would have wanted to face Joonho as soon as you had heard of his plans and you would have lost. You are the king, Yuta. All we wanted was to make sure you'd be able to walk away from it, with both your head and your crown, and live long enough to tell."

Sunmi rose from the bed to walk around the room. Her hands nervously gripped her skirt, her fingers digging into it with so much force Doyoung feared she might rip it. "Seers are forbidden to get directly involved with someone else's path. We know too much, see too much for it to end well. I could only nudge you all in the right direction and hope that you'd understand what you had to do and when to do it, so that's what I tried to do," she stopped her pacing to look at them with remorse in her eyes. "I'm sorry you were nothing but puppets in this, but it was the only way you'd all survive." Her eyes were imploring as she spoke, begging for their understanding. Yuta ran his fingers through his hair.

"Don't worry about it, Sunmi. I understand. As much as I don't like it, I understand," some of the tension left Sunmi's body and she breathed in, relieved. Then Yuta's attention shifted to Doyoung. "I guess this means you will be the human king."

Doyoung furrowed his brows, confused. "It was a lie we told the Council, we never got to perform the binding ceremony. I'm not the king."

"Oh, but you will," Yuta grunted, struggling to sit straighter. "Half the work of being the king is getting people to believe you actually are the king. You already managed that, because, thanks to Sunmi, they believe you can't lie and I didn't deny it, so they think we are bound together but, if someone ever found out we're not, everything will crumble down and you might be killed for lying to the Council and impersonating the king," at Yuta's gesture, Sunmi rushed forward. "We need to be bound together when we leave this room, or this ruse will be over," at Doyoung's distressed face, Yuta stopped, his eyes softening. "What did you think would happen, Doyoung?"

"I thought you would say we had undone it and that would be it."

Yuta shot him a fleeting smile. "Maybe in the future but we can't do that right now. It would be too risky, too suspicious. It would raise too many questions that we can't really answer." Doyoung bit his bottom lip, nodding repeatedly, as if trying to convince himself. "But we can try and come up with something else if you'd really prefer that," Yuta added, half questioningly.

Doyoung's eyes shot up. "No! It's not that. I just... Want you to promise we will undo it when it’s safe, no hard feelings, if that is what we decide."

"I promise," Yuta replied, his eyes shining briefly for a moment. "Sunmi, are you ready? There's a knife there," he pointed at one of his drawers.

Even after reading about it, Doyoung didn't really know what he expected to happen. It was surprisingly simple and swift: a small cut over the previous one he had done during the night, a few droplets of blood and it was over when they exchanged the ritual words, vows and promises to become one. Doyoung didn't feel anything different when they finished but Sunmi stared at their joined hands, tied with a string, and smiled, apparently satisfied at what she saw.

She rose, taking with her the knife and the piece of string she had used when she had announced them to be bound together. "I will leave you now to rest. Tomorrow will be a long day and you need to have a clear head. Both of you," she added, turning her eyes at Doyoung, who nodded. She walked towards the door but, before she touched it, she stopped and looked at them over her shoulder. "We shall never speak of this night again, I trust you know that but please know: everything will be fine. I promise," she slipped out of the room, leaving them alone.

When the door closed behind her, silence fell over the room. Nothing could be heard as they sat, as immobile as statues, not even the sound of their breaths. Doyoung wanted to say something, but he doubted anything he could say would have been enough: he wasn't sure there were words to express his feelings right at that moment.

A single look at Yuta was enough to see he had slipped further under the covers, his eyes closed and his chest slowly and periodically rising. Carefully to not disturb him in his sleep, Doyoung moved away from him but, as he was about to rise from the bed and leave, a hand curled around his wrist, locking him in place.

Startled, Doyoung looked down.

"Stay," Yuta hadn't opened his eyes, but his voice was clear. He let his fingers drop from Doyoung's wrist. 

"Yuta..."

"Stay, Doyoung," he repeated. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't want you to."

Yuta furrowed deeper into his bed, letting a hesitant Doyoung decide. Soundlessly, Doyoung took off his shoes and, his eyes never leaving Yuta, scanning him to see if he changed his mind, he slipped under the covers. When Yuta didn't move, Doyoung let himself let go of the constant worries and tension of the day. Closing his eyes, he let sleep claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1ANtvBWKGoRGvyQc0Zjkxt?si=cLCf0hwzS9eYGLabIePtjQ)


	5. Chapter 5

The throne room was one Doyoung had learnt to hate. It wasn't the room per se that made him feel sick to his stomach, but rather the memories that rushed to him in an avalanche the second he set foot in it. None of them were pleasant and only a few didn't make him think of some of the worst moments of his life.

He kept resolutely staring at the wall opposite him, adamantly refusing to acknowledge the people swarming around him. Maybe, if he didn't look at them, he could pretend he couldn't feel their hungry eyes focused on them. It hadn't taken them long to do so, their eyes immediately falling on both Yuta and him as soon as they had entered the room.

Doyoung thought, and not for the first time, that they resembled vultures, waiting for the right moment to strike. They had considered doing so when they believed Yuta's reign had ended. They were considering it too, when Yuta came back, crown still his, even if for a completely different reason. They wanted their favour, their sympathy. They thought Doyoung was the way to go, the easy one to conquer and flatter. Doyoung didn't even look at them. There was no escaping the games, but he refused to be fooled and dive right into them.

Resigned, he entered the throne room, just a step behind Yuta. For once, though, he wouldn't be standing half-hidden by the throne, nor would he kneel before Yuta. Instead, Doyoung would occupy his throne, the twin to Yuta's, as they presided the trial.

He still thought his presence in the said trial was pointless, given he knew little of the faerie laws, but Yuta had insisted on him coming, and finally, he had relented.

Caught off guard, Doyoung jolted when the doors opened and Joonho was lead in, Xiaojun and Kunhang by his side. Pleased, Doyoung noticed they appeared to have finally gotten over the fear he had previously instilled in them.

Even when in shackles, Joonho walked into the room like he owned it, a sneer on his face. He looked down at the ones around him and his eyes were full of hatred as they settled on Yuta. There was murder in them as he looked at Doyoung. Behind him, Jaehyun was also brought in, his head hanging low. He only raised it to look around the room, and his whole face brightened when he found his brother and mother among the crowd. His brother looked close to tears, but managed to smile in response. Doyoung’s heart broke at the sight.

Sunmi took a step forward.

"The faerie lord by the name of Joonho Jung is standing here under the charges of treason, conspiracy against the Crown and fabricating evidence to incriminate the king, as accused by the Royal Council. Due to the nature of the charges, and after being found guilty of them, the Lord's sentence shall be decided by the king himself."

Once the High Priestess had recited the charges, she returned to her previous place, leaving the crowd to stare at both Yuta and Joonho. Joonho hadn't taken his eyes off Yuta, not even as Sunmi spoke. The atmosphere in the room was tense as both males stared at each other.

"I always knew you hated me, Joonho," Yuta started. "I always knew you resented me for being the one chosen, for not wanting to live in the world like it was, for wanting to change it. I knew that, as much as I knew you'd one day try and take me down. I just didn't know how far you'd be willing to go," there was steel in his voice, his hands gripping the throne's armrest more tightly with every word that left his lips. "You tried to kill me, frame me; abducted a human, tried to get him to murder me in my sleep. You tried to manipulate this Council into doing your bidding and have us turn into each other. And still, somehow, none of those things have been the worst you've done," Yuta stood up then, shaking in anger. Doyoung didn't need to see him to picture his expression, dark eyes burning with rage, his face a mask of ire as he slowly approached Joonho. "You used one of your sons to get him to abduct and manipulate said human, and threatened to kill your wife and son, even your eldest son's partner to get him to cooperate. You make me sick to my stomach," he spat out. "If it were completely up to me, you would be sentenced to death. It is what the law says, after all," Yuta snickered. In Joonho's face, Doyoung could see his own confusion replicated, even if it was quickly hidden. "Luckily or not, I don't think that's what your family would like to see and, if I'm being honest, I believe this is much more suitable for you. I will find a notable kind of pleasure in knowing you will witness the treaty you tried so hard to prevent being signed and implemented. Bring him forward," he instructed, as he sat back on the throne.

Kunhang nudged Joonho between his shoulder blades to get him to move, while Xiaojun walked beside him, his hand on the pommel of his sword, carefully eyeing each and every one of Joonho's movements.

"Lord Joonho Jung: your crimes are many, against the Crown, the Council and your own kingdom. The investigation has been thorough and the Council's decision has been unanimous: you're guilty of every charge. Because of this, you should be sentenced to death but, out of consideration towards your many services during the years you've served this country, I have decided to commute your sentence," Yuta's eyes shone with dark satisfaction as he spoke. Joonho seemed to have noticed it as well and had begun to squirm, nervously watching him. "Instead, you'll keep your life. In exchange of it, you will be stripped of all your titles and riches and everything you own. You shall never again hold a sword or come into touch with any kind of magic. You are to leave this kingdom and never set foot in it again unless you're explicitly allowed to do, either by the Council or the Crown, and you shall never come in contact with any member of your family, unless they willingly reach for you. If you are caught breaking these terms, you shall pay for it with your life.”

With every word that left Yuta's lips, Joonho's face lost a bit of colour. By the time Yuta had finished speaking, Joonho was shaking so badly Kunhang and Xiaojun exchanged a look, worried, before getting closer to the nobleman, as if fearing what he might try to do.

“The king has spoken. Let it be done." Sunmi exclaimed. Her face remained impassive as she spoke, but she couldn't keep the light satisfaction off her tone at Joonho's uneasy expression.

Doyoung leaned forward as Yuta, a bored expression on his face, flicked his wrist.

"Take him away," he ordered. 

Xiaojun nodded before grabbing one of Joonho's arms, and Kunhang rushed to follow. They pulled on his arms to get him to move, but Joonho dug his heels in and refused to move.

"You can't do that!" There was a slight stutter to his words, an almost imperceptible fear in his voice that had never been there before.

"I am the king, _Joonho_ ," Yuta replied, clearly delighted when Joonho's expression crumbled, grimacing at hearing his own name, stripped of his title. "Of course I can," his expression hardened then. "Take him away. Make sure he's gone by sunrise."

"No!" Joonho shouted, as Xiaojun and Kunhang forced him to move. "No! You can't do this!" Joonho trashed against the hands the held him and the young guards struggled to keep him still. Jungwoo stepped forward to help them. Following him walked a tall, slim boy. He looked gentle, but was unforgiving as he helped drag Joonho in the door's direction, briskly giving orders that Xiaojun and Kunhang hurried to obey. "You will regret this, Yuta!!”

Joonho’s cries of outrage were muffled by the door as it closed behind them. Once the silence had returned to the throne room, Jaehyun was brought forward to stand in front of Yuta.

He kept his eyes cast down, unable, or unwilling, to look at his friend. Doyoung pretended he didn’t see the pain in Yuta’s eyes, the way the anger seemed to seep from his body, slowly replaced by sadness. 

Among the crowd, Doyoung found Sicheng staring at Jaehyun. He was biting his bottom lip so hard it threatened to draw blood, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was accompanied by two younger boys and had settled a protective hand on each of their shoulders, ignorant to the way both of the boys were grimacing. It wasn’t until the tallest of the two turned around to talk to him that Sicheng realized what he was doing, and let his hands fall down like they burned him. Instead, he brought the boys closer to him, gripping them as tightly as they gripped him, while they waited for the sentence to be passed.

"The faerie by the name of Jaehyun Jung is standing here under the charges of conspiracy in order to commit treason, conspiracy against the Crown and conspiracy in fabricating evidence to incriminate the king as accused by the Royal Council. Due to the nature of the charges his sentence shall be decided by the king himself,” Sunmi’s voice sounded lower than it used to and more dubious than normal as she recited the words. Doyoung knew them by heart at that point and still, it was as if someone had reached inside his chest to clamp down on his heart, until it threatened to shatter.

Not one sound was to be heard as they waited for Yuta to decide, to do something. He was still, resembling a statue, as he observed Jaehyun’s features, like he was trying to commit his face to memory.

“Your crimes alone are enough to be granted a sentence just like your father’s,” Yuta said, startling them all. “You worked behind my back, helped in a ploy whose sole purpose was to have me killed. You should be dead by sunrise,” he continued, a bitter smile on his lips. Sicheng paled. Jaehyun clenched his teeth and said nothing. Jaemin tried to appear strong for his mother, her eyes brimming with tears. Doyoung prayed to the gods he had never believed in. “You should be dead by sunrise, and you know that,” Jaehyun nodded and his resignation at his own destiny could be read in every line of his body. “But I also know why you did it, that you only meant to protect your family, the only way you could. I know you tried your best to warn us,” Jaehyun slowly raised his head. His eyes were shining with hope, and Doyoung found that same hope he felt reflected on everyone’s faces. It was tentative, a flame so small it could be stifled in just one breath, but it was there. “Still, you have to be punished for your crimes,” the flame flickered, darkness looming over. “Jaehyun Jung, your crimes have been many, against the Crown, the Council and your own kingdom. Because of that, you shall be punished: you are to lose your name and title, and will be stripped of all your riches and rights as an heir, which will pass to the next in the succession line. Shall you ever go against the Crown like that, you _will_ lose more than this. Release him,” he ordered.

The relief and surprise, mixed with a twinge of guilt, was unmistakable in Jaehyun’s eyes. Yuta barely waited for Sunmi to speak and close the trial before he bolted from the chair, walking briskly towards the door. He tugged on Doyoung’s hand so that he would follow, and Doyoung found himself surprised at the softness of his grip, so careful despite the anger that still remained in his face.

Jaehyun took a step in their direction, as if he wanted to say something, but Yuta didn’t even look at him, and before he could do anything, Sicheng and Jaemin had launched themselves at Jaehyun, preventing him from moving. Jaehyun followed Doyoung and Yuta with his eyes before they settled on Doyoung, who nodded subtly. Jaehyun smiled, pained, before shifting his attention to his family and lover, returning their hugs and teary smiles.

“He didn’t have a choice,” Doyoung whispered. Yuta’s grip on his hand tightened.

“I know but I can’t talk to him right now. I will just… Not right now.”

Doyoung stared at Yuta’s profile, and, pursing his lips, he nodded. The wound was too fresh, too recent. It’d have to heal and it’d be a slow process and take time, but he knew they’d get there. All of them would. 

For the time being, however, there were other things they needed to focus on.

***

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t think you’d be able to do this.”

Yuta turned around to look at the man that had spoken. He nodded politely at him, before returning his attention to the one who held it before. He wasn’t hard to locate, not when he smiled so brightly he lit up the whole room. Yuta smiled, barely a twitch of his lips, feeling warm inside, before he replied.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Youngho snorted, pushing his dark hair back with one hand. His other hand held a glass full of faerie wine. “I really wanted you to succeed, even if you don’t believe me. I just didn’t think you’d be able to, not with everything that was going on.”

“Then why did you change your mind?” Yuta asked.

“I didn’t,” the human prince smiled, sardonically. “Taeyong persuaded me to wait and see, to have a little faith in you,” his smiled warmed like he did every time he spoke of his lover, his expression filling with every ounce of the love he felt for him.

“I’m glad he did, then,” Yuta replied in earnest, finally facing him. Youngho dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

“I’m glad he did, too. This thing you’ve both done… It’s good, it’s great even. I’m glad I was a part of it, even if I didn’t think it possible,” Youngho then averted his eyes, looking for someone in the crowd. His whole face lit up when he found the one he was looking for. “But, who knows, maybe the next time we see each other we’ll have something else to celebrate, something greater than this.”

Yuta arched his brows, amused and equally confused. “Greater than this? Greater than the historic peace treaty between our races?”

Youngho shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. “Maybe not necessarily _greater_ but… It would be, in a sense. At least for the people directly involved in it. If you’ll excuse me,” Youngho nodded at Yuta before navigating his way to where Taeyong was, deep in conversation with Ten. He was surprised by Youngho’s sudden arrival, but he smiled brightly at him and threw himself at the other’s arms. He clung onto him for a moment before disentangling himself and turning around to introduce him to Ten.

It had been a nice evening, Yuta decided. It had taken longer than he had expected, but that didn’t matter any longer, not as he stood there, surrounded by humans and faeries alike. For the first time in centuries, it wasn’t to fight or kill each other, but to celebrate. Sometimes, Yuta still had to pinch himself, to make sure it was true, to ensure it wasn’t all a dream. He still couldn’t quite believe it.

They had finally signed the treaty, in a neutral point on the border. The place had been suggested by Doyoung, and Yuta hadn’t understood why until they had reached it. There had been a welcoming party waiting for them and, as they approached them, one of the boys had abandoned it, and ran full speed at them, so fast the guards hadn’t even had the chance to draw their swords before he reached them. 

By the time they had located the boy, it had been on top of Doyoung, his arms coiled around his neck so tightly they threatened to choke him. It had been the tears running down Doyoung’s face, his arms equally tight around the boy’s torso, that had prevented Yuta from ordering the guards to attack him.

There had been mistrust written in every line of the boy’s face when he looked at them, after he and Doyoung had finally broken apart from their embrace, especially once he found Jaehyun standing in their midst. It was only after Doyoung softly whispered something to him that he lessened the death grip he had on Doyoung, allowed himself to be introduced as Jeno, Doyoung’s brother. 

It had taken him longer to finally smile, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons when he did so, the same eyes that had once again vanished when he had spotted Sunmi tentatively walking towards them. Yuta had never seen so much crying as he had seen then, even more so when an older man had finally joined them, looking at Sunmi as if he had seen a ghost.

“He never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t have a choice,” Yuta stilled when he heard those words. Slowly, he turned around to stare at Jaehyun, who had managed to appear by his side without him noticing. Jaehyun continued, carefully inspecting Yuta's face. "He did it, even if he didn't want to, even if he thought you'd never forgive him."

Yuta turned his eyes to stare at Doyoung, lively conversing with Sicheng. He thought of him, of his bright smile that never seemed to leave his face when he was with his brother, of the way he laughter seemed to come easier to him then, of the fleeting looks at Yuta when he thought no one would notice. "There is nothing to forgive."

Jaehyun's smile was a little crooked, but honest. "Does he know that?"

"Not yet. I don't think he would believe me right now."

"He will. He knows that you're good and that he can trust you. He wouldn't have done this if not, if he didn't care about you."

“He said the same thing about you,” Yuta finally said.

"He was not lying," silence fell between them. It was awkward, the result of many things that been left unspoken, unknown, too many secrets that had ended up burdening their relationship. “I’m sorry,” Yuta closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I betrayed you, I’m sorry I lied. I’m so sorry for everything,” Jaehyun’s face was pale, dark shadows under his eyes. He looked almost ill, as if he hadn’t slept at all since the trial. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Yuta allowed himself a shaky breath. “This treaty ends a feud, a war, that has been going on for centuries, maybe even millennia. No one even knows how it started, we were just born into it and accepted it as something that we couldn’t change. But I wanted to. It was important to me, and the more people tried to stop me, the more I wanted it to end,” he said. Jaehyun didn’t even seem to be breathing, painfully listening to him speak. “I know what happened between us. I know why you betrayed me. If I was willing to go to the lengths I’ve gone for something that didn’t even affect me, what do you think I’m willing to do for us?” Yuta whispered.

At first, there was no response. When Yuta finally opened his eyes, he found Jaehyun’s brimming with tears, the same that were soundlessly falling down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun repeated. It was as if he had forgotten all other words. Yuta smiled sadly, brushed away his tears.

“We’ve been friends for far too long, Jaehyun. It will take more than this for me to turn my back to you.”

Yuta opened his arms, and Jaehyun wasted no time before diving in, wrapping his arms around Yuta’s body. He was shaking slightly, silently mouthing apologies like he was praying, imploring for absolution. Jaehyun’s face was buried in Yuta’s neck, the position uncomfortable for both of them, but neither cared enough to move. Yuta didn’t even care about his damp cheeks, his lips tasting of salt, not when he was hugging Jaehyun and Jaehyun was hugging him.

They were finally at peace, all of them, and their hearts were finally starting to heal.

***

Night caught him sitting by his desk, head between his hands, eyes fixated on the papers he was reading, or, rather, trying to read, as the names and dates and lines got blurred together. He tugged at his hair in frustration, so harshly it was almost painful. He was in desperate need of some sleep, especially after being sat there for hours, but he didn’t want to leave the desk, not yet. Everything in him wanted closure, needed closure, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly until he got it, butthat night wouldn’t be the one, not as his own body betrayed him, losing the battle against sleep. 

Even almost a year after the trial, Yuta knew there were things that had remained unsaid, old allies that had been kept in the dark, names that even Jaehyun ignored. Joonho had been smart, only feeding Jaehyun what was strictly necessary for him to know. He had been the one behind the plan that had almost cost Yuta his life, but they all knew he hadn’t been the only one. Yuta was aware that there were more, others that had helped Joonho try and bring him down, that had sat in silence when it was Joonho the one that had fallen instead. It had been quiet since then, but Yuta knew it was only a matter of time until they struck again. They were just patiently waiting for Yuta to let his guard down once more, bidding their time. 

Yuta wanted them all gone. He wanted them to be punished, their names erased from history, but that wouldn’t be possible until he knew who they were. Yuta sighed, stretching his neck as he did so. It would be a long night.

Suddenly, there were pale hands running up his back and down his chest, and the heat of a body pressed slightly against Yuta’s, his neck tingling where it was caressed by dark hair.

“You need to rest,” the words were muffled against the skin of his shoulder.

“I need to finish this first, my love,” Yuta groaned, even if he felt his resolve weaken and crumble to dust with every kiss Doyoung placed on his arm.

“You are too tired to do this right now, Yuta. This will be waiting for you when we return, come rest,” as Yuta opened his mouth to protest, Doyoung moved until his lips caressed his ear every time he spoke, sending a shiver down Yuta’s spine. “We have a royal wedding to attend, and a long journey ahead until we reach the human kingdom,” he continued, trying to coax Yuta out of his chair. “Come to bed, my king”.

Linking their hands together, Doyoung gently pulled at him, waiting for Yuta to make a decision. He looked ethereal under the pale moonlight, his lashes shadowing his cheekbones, bottom lip caged between his teeth as he stared at Yuta, expectantly. Yuta was then reminded of another night, a lifetime ago, when his breath was stolen by Doyoung, by the man to whom he had given a ring to wear, joining them together in the eyes of every living being. 

There was a gash in his palm, twin to the one in Doyoung’s hand, the skin around it still tender from when it had been reopened once again. It had been more symbolic than it had been ceremonial but Yuta didn’t mind, instead savoring the slight pain that came with it. It was just the start of a new journey.

He had seen the gleam in Doyoung’s eyes as he talked about the human kings, the way they shone with true happiness and a speck of jealousy. _Soon_ , Yuta silently promised. Soon, he would kneel down before him and offer him his heart, and a true crown to don, so that they would be one. 

And so Yuta let himself be dragged back to bed. He kissed him good night and watched him fall asleep. He drunk up every little detail, every breath, every move, until Yuta couldn’t keep his own eyes open and followed suit, his dreams filled with images of Doyoung, the one who was his world, his heart, the one he’d love unmeasurably, endlessly, for all eternity and beyond, until even after all the stars in the sky had died and been reborn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the end! To those of you who have reached this point, thank you so much for reading this story. I have spent countless hours on it and some more complaining about it on Twitter but the truth is, I've enjoyed writing it, even if I almost gave up at times, or how sick I might become of the fic as I wrote it (it was exhausting to write, not gonna lie). But, in all seriousness, it was a satisfying experience, no matter how frustrating it might have been, and I've made friends so, all in all, it's been really rewarding.  
> Thanks once more to the lovely people who have put up with me when I was writing it, I probably wouldn't have finished this if not for you!  
> To my dear prompter, I really hope you've enjoyed it, as much as I hope I've done the prompt justice. If you're around, please let me know what you thought of it!!  
> Comments and kudos warm my heart, as always.  
> See you all (hopefully) soon ;)

**Author's Note:**

> [The playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1ANtvBWKGoRGvyQc0Zjkxt?si=cLCf0hwzS9eYGLabIePtjQ)
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/starryjinsouls) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Val_99)
> 
> \- Val


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